


Seven Feudal Fairy Tales

by ladybattousai



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon Compliant, Consensual Underage Sex, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Japanese Culture, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Japanese Poetry, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:08:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 60
Words: 169,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24267937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybattousai/pseuds/ladybattousai
Summary: After reading a poetry scroll amongst the relics once belonging to Inuyasha's mother, Kagome traps herself and Sesshoumaru in another world, where they must journey through seven, different fairy tales and complete the poem if they wish to return home.
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/Sesshoumaru
Comments: 51
Kudos: 160





	1. Ink on Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting what is easily my most popular story ever for the lovely AO3 community. My first fanfiction turned out to be lightning in a bottle, and I'm grateful to this day for the affection that it's received. I do plan to revise it at some point for the sake of flow and readability, but in the meantime, please enjoy it in all its beautiful and imperfect glory.

Chapter One: Ink on Skin

"Have you found it yet, Inuyasha?" a voice sang out from the glowing cave entrance.

Pausing in his digging, a dusty figure peered over the rim of the deep hole he stood in, his once white ears trained on the source of the interruption.

"Feh," he replied flippantly, his voice coarse and slightly more irritated than usual. 'It was close though. Maybe another foot or two.'

He inhaled the fresh air one last time and bent over, scooping up the cool dirt with his clawed hands. The acrid scent of rust stung his eyes and burned his nose, and it took him a moment to get his bearings. Then with a quick motion, he thrust the dirt between his legs and over the edge of the hole into the growing pile behind him.

Still standing at the entrance, Kagome repressed a smirk as she watched him, deciding that his wrath wasn't worth indulging in a laugh. Shippou had already proven the result after a few choice remarks, and thus received several bumps on the head for his efforts. Despite how ridiculously dog-like it appeared to be, she couldn't deny the efficiency of Inuyasha's chosen method of digging.

His nails singing across a metallic surface, he let out a triumphant cry and quickly swept it free of dirt, searching for the edges.

Hearing what sounded like success, Miroku, Sango and a rather sheepish Shippou appeared beside Kagome. Plagued by curiosity, they had spent a good portion of the morning wondering about what the secretive hanyou had insisted on retrieving so far from the village they were supposed to be exorcising.

With a grunt, Inuyasha dragged out a large, iron chest from the hole and shook the dirt from his clothes and mane. When finished, he crouched beside it and studied the latches on the once extravagant chest, to which exposure had long since robbed it of its beauty.

'It had been seventy years after all, fifty of which he had spent sealed to a tree,' he thought to himself as his dirt-clogged claws grazed over the rusted lock.

"Allow me," Miroku offered as he knelt beside him. With a few yanks and a quick blow from his staff, the lock released. His smug smile was only slightly more disconcerting than the ease with which he had been able to open the chest.

Reverently, Inuyasha lifted the lid and began to sort through the neatly packed contents.

Their curiosity overwhelming their patience, everyone soon crowded around the chest, desperate to know what had so enraptured their typically rough and disinterested companion.

Inuyasha eyed them warily as they each picked up a package and delicately unwrapped them. Satisfied with their level of respect, he went back to his search, occasionally pausing to smell different objects, his expression wistful.

"It's a kimono," Sango remarked, surprise in her voice, "And it's beautiful." Holding it up, she examined the striking pink and lavender lotus flower pattern. She hadn't seen anything quite like it, except perhaps donned by the most elegant princesses from her travels. She held it close to her face, letting the cool fabric brush her skin. Even though she wasn't one to desire decadence, it was hard not to think about what it would be like to be adorned in such richness.

Kagome slipped hers out of its cloth, revealing a black, lacquered tanto. The dagger, inlaid with mother-of-pearl, featured blooming sakura branches entwined around its length. When she removed it from its sheath, she revealed the tarnished, but exquisitely crafted blade. Entranced by the beauty, she didn't notice Inuyasha standing expectantly in front of her.

"Kagome," he said softly, and smoothly slipped a comb-style kanzashi into her free hand.

Enchanted by the new treasure, she accepted the half-moon hairpin. Never had she seen an ivory comb before, and she marveled at the tortoiseshell design along the spine that trailed down each of the teeth. The gold gilding glinted in the low light of the cave. When she looked up, her gaze met him and his gentle expression. A deep blush rose to her cheeks.

"For the yurei at the village," he added after a moment and flashed a knowing grin.

Her blush receded, and her attention fell to the hairpin again. It was true they were attempting to put to rest the vengeful ghost of a princess at the village, one that had eluded their efforts for days.

"Inuyasha are you sure you want to risk this?" she asked, turning the comb over in her palm. "Miroku could be wrong about her desire for the finery of her past life."

"Feh! I'll dispatch her before she can do anything," he proclaimed with unerring confidence, his hand not-so-subtly touching the hilt of the Tessaiga.

Then, with a quick pivot, he left to stalk the mischievous kitsune who had disappeared outside with the playing ball he had stolen from the chest.

"So, are all of these mementos from his childhood?" Sango asked, folding the kimono and placing it once again in its protective wrapping.

"I think so," Kagome replied, thinking back, "I remember the illusion of his mother that was used to trap him once and she wore clothing similar to this."

"The age of the chest lends itself to that theory as well," Miroku added absently, distracted by an old scroll he had found.

Perplexed by its nature, Kagome continued to examine the comb. Ivory was fairly rare in Japan at this time, and she wondered who might have given Inuyasha's mother such a unique and special gift. Drifting into her thoughts, she imagined a great, inu daiyoukai traveling to China or India, searching for the perfect gift for his lover.

A sigh escaped her. 'I'd settle for half a youkai getting me a bowl of ramen.' Almost two years of attraction and moments of near intimacy had taken their toll on her self-esteem. What was she riding on anyway? All she's managed was a hug and almost a kiss. Not to mention she's been competing with Kikyo for his attention. How was she supposed to win against the dead?

Sango rested her reassuring hand onto her shoulder, and she rested her cheek against it for comfort. At least she understood, but there was little she could do or say anyway. With her own problems in romance, one could debate all night over who was more trouble, Inuyasha or Miroku?

A series of gruff curses and a wet squeak startled her out of her self-pity, and she made her way to the opening of the cave. Shippou probably earned his punishment this time, but she should at least intervene to keep Inuyasha from getting too carried away.

Miroku puzzled over the ancient scroll he held gently in his hands. The exotic calligraphy appeared like black liquid on the off-white parchment and the kanji characters danced as he shifted it under the candlelight. It was definitely magical, but the writing was so unfamiliar that even he, a well-educated priest, had difficulty deciphering it.

"Kagome," he called out as she reentered the cave, toting a battered Shippou and accompanied by a guiltless Inuyasha tossing a ball in the air. "Can you read this?"

"Maybe," she replied, handing Shippou off to Sango.

With her brow furrowed, she examined the scroll. If he was struggling to read it, then she knew it would be challenging to read, but even the style of the lettering was foreign to her.

"It seems to be about folk legends and perhaps about a portal of some sort, but that's all I could piece together," he offered, his devious hand inching towards her waist.

Absently, she slipped away from his prowling reach, her line of thought intact as she knelt beside her overstuffed backpack. Soon, she was rummaging through it.

"My treasured kanji notes," she exclaimed victoriously as she pulled out a battered notebook and thumbed through its pages. Years of practice came back to her as she began to match the various, obscure characters from the scroll to their meanings in her book.

Ink glides across skin

Shifting symbols part a way

Darkness swallows two

Black water breaks upon wood

Shells sing shelter within wind

Hidden from the sky

Brave through storm the sun and moon

Seeking the before

OOOOOOOOOO

"Sesshoumaru-sama," a small and hopelessly cheerful voice called out.

Following a path nearly hidden by a sea of amber grass, the tall, elegant figure paused and looked over his shoulder towards the sound of his name.

"Rin!" an even smaller voice exclaimed, and a tiny, green youkai scurried towards the young girl perched upon a two-headed mount. "Do not bother Sesshoumaru-sama with your trivial needs,"

"But Jaken-sama…" she said.

"No, you must not bother him," Jaken insisted. "He is busy searching for Naraku or something to that end." He glanced up at Sesshoumaru who had since resumed his course.

"But, Jaken-sama, there's a voice coming from Ah-Un."

"A voice?" he replied doubtfully. He opened his mouth, ready to scold her for now wasting his time, let alone their lord's, when he heard something. Something faint and rhythmic.

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" he yelled.

Closing his eyes in mild vexation, Sesshoumaru sighed and stopped once again. The notion of releasing his retainers from their service to him filtered through his mind, and then it lingered longer than usual with the next comment.

"There's a voice coming from Ah-Un!" Rin exclaimed, her observation validated by Jaken's stuttering squawks of anxiety and apparent lack of an explanation.

With a swift and fluid motion, Sesshoumaru pivoted and casually strolled back to investigate the commotion. And it wasn't long before he found himself equally confused. There was a voice. Swiftly, he homed in on it, unfastening one of Ah-Un's packs. Within it, he retrieved an old scroll, an odd inheritance bequeathed to him by his father. It glowed a dim blue in the bright sunlight and the voice echoed from it like water dripping in a cavern.

With a practiced ease, he unrolled the scroll with a single hand and studied the luminous letters inscribed across it. As each syllable was uttered by the voice, the strange glow leaked into the new characters, slowly drowning the paper in light. The scroll had held little interest for him in the past. He had disregarded it simply as a relic of his father's previously unknown affinity for poetry.

Distant tales seven there are

Battle cries and wishes scorned

The bear challenges

Boy of golden will and strength

Trees hold victory

"Sesshoumaru-sama?" Jaken spoke up, his eyes widening in dismay, "Sesshoumaru-sama, you're vanishing!"

The daiyoukai's eyes flashed about his person to find that he was staring through his clothes and armor to the ground beneath him and the vague shapes that had once been his feet. He snarled, hot with rage at the apparent trap. He attempted to drop the scroll, only to discover that even his hand was a vaporous notion of its former self. Desperately, he struggled to keep his form as his body dispersed into nothingness. Yet, despite his efforts, he disappeared, and his mind was consumed by darkness.


	2. The Sun and the Moon

Chapter Two: The Sun and the Moon

"Kagome-sama, release the scroll," Miroku commanded firmly.

'Why are you getting mad at me?'

"Let go of it!"

'Hey, don't shout at me. You're the one who told me to read it.'

"Let go of it!" he yelled again, moving towards her. As he closed in, she realized his distress, and her chest tightened with worry.

"Kagome!" Inuyasha called out next, fear in his voice. Brushing past the monk, his hand reached out grab her, but instead slipped through her. In its wake, her fading arm swirled as if it were simply dust motes in the air.

'What's happening to me?!' she screamed noiselessly as panic seized her. Desperately, she tried to fight it, but she could do nothing as her body dissolved. And then with the gentle breeze of the cave, she was blown away.

OOOOOOOOOO

Kagome's eyes fluttered open.

"My face is burning," she mumbled, cringing from the pain. Strewn awkwardly on the floor, she slowly reshaped her crumpled body. And as she sat up, she rubbed the imprint of the tatami floor from her sore cheek. Made of rubber, she swayed as if her entire body had pinched a nerve and fallen asleep. Her fuzzy mind wasn't much better off as she glanced about the room. Beside her laid the battered kanji notebook and she scooped it up. Then on fawn-like legs, she stumbled to her feet, only to topple over and land hard on her bottom. The sudden, jarring blow knocked the last vestiges of sleep from her and her eyes widened. This was not the cave.

Dimly lit by lamplight, the small room featured intricate murals that covered its rice-paper walls and ceiling. On one wall and surrounded by images of the sun, a figure caught her eye. She was an enchanting woman who radiated light and warmth upon the people around her. And Kagome didn't have to grow up in a shrine to know who she was.

"Amaterasu," she whispered to herself as she found her footing once more and stood up.

Feeling as if she had stumbled into a museum, she examined the artwork and relics throughout the room, and soon found herself drawn to the tokonoma. In the alcove, she found a finely painted scroll of Amaterasu emerging from a cave, returning light to the world after her self-imposed exile. Placed below it were floral arrangements, and between them, was a small shrine dedicated to the sun goddess. Elegant in its simplicity, the shrine was decorated with paper streamers, and at its center, incense burned, its wisps of smoke wafting through the air.

"Something doesn't seem right," she whispered as she felt a few of the flower blossoms.

Before she could put her finger on what seemed amiss, the scroll began to rattle against the wall as a low rumble rolled through the room. Holding her breath, she listened intently. It was eerily quiet with only the whispers of burning lamps filling her ears. Then it came again. Starting with a short sizzle and then a boom, the noise was followed by the thunderous shaking that reverberated throughout the floor and walls.

Taking a deep breath, she headed towards the sliding door that marked the exit and paused to build her courage. And then with a nod, she opened the door.

Her jaw dropped.

It was the ocean. Her fear gone, she gleefully walked out onto the polished walkway that ran parallel to the room and leaned over the ornate railing that separated her from the waves. Moving like rippling silk, the black water crashed against the pillars beneath, and she caught herself reminiscing about sunbathing and watermelons. It had been ages since she had been to the beach.

The dark, overcast sky wasn't the cheerful sun from her memories though. Instead, it doused her fleeting joy with its ominous and surreal swirls. As the brisk, ocean breeze brushed against her and whipped at her hair, she watched the black, tattered clouds moving across the sky. Dissipating and reforming as they flowed, they played out twisted stories of violence and agony. And she watched on in disbelief as images of samurai slaying each other and ogres ravaging villages emerged. War, death, and demonic faces dominated the sky and she was both horrified and fascinated by the carnage.

"This can't be real. It must be my imagination. Maybe I've spent too much time in the Sengoku Jidai. Too many razed villages, too many burials, too many youkai, and too much caffeine," she said to herself.

Then a great mass of clouds swirled together, taking on a new shape. A head and a torso began to build on the horizon. With brilliant cracks of lightning illuminating the hollow depressions of its eyes, a wicked grin spread across its face. Swelling from the shoulder, a great arm grew, and it reached for her with billowing fingers.

The rumble returned, shaking the floor again.

Startling her, her attention shifted towards the front of the building. The noise was definitely louder out here than in the room.

When her gaze returned to the sky, she sighed in relief as shapeless clouds meandered across the dark sky. After a quick curse to her imagination, she headed down the walkway towards the front of the building.

The lively tinkle of wind-chimes greeted her as she came around the corner. They hung along the eave, and as the breeze blew, the carved pieces of seashells that dangled from them rang. Nearby, she discovered a large door that promised entrance into the tower. Leaning in close, she pressed her cheek against it. Another tremor struck and it vibrated against her face.

'It's coming from in here,' she thought, biting at her lip. 'The way back might be inside too, so there's no point in not looking and I'll be quiet. Then, if it's dangerous, I'll just slip back out and think of something else. It's not a great plan, but it's better than blundering in.' A heavy sigh escaped her. 'What I'd give for my bow right now.'

Her heart thumping in her chest, she licked her lips as she took the door handle. She could feel her hand trembling. In fact, her whole body seemed to be shaking uncontrollably. With a tug, the door slid open.

Surrounded by a bright flash, she felt her body being immediately consumed by a terrifying blast of fire. It struck her to the floor and continued to smother her in sizzling flames. She screamed her terror, her voice not dying even after the last sparks of fire burnt away into nothingness.

"I'm alive?!" she gasped, out of breath. Mystified, she felt her body over in disbelief.

A man snorted, and then in a deep voice, he noted blandly, "This sword seems to be ineffective against living creatures as well."

A figure in silhouette moved to stand over her body, inspecting her with impassive, golden eyes.

Raising her hand to her brow, she squinted as she looked up at him, trying to place the unnervingly familiar voice. The lamps on the walls illuminated him from behind, making him even more difficult to identify. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the lighting and his features revealed themselves to her. Silver or white hair, white and red clothes, black armor, fur wrap of some sort and facial markings of a crescent moon and red slashes on the cheeks. She gasped and scrambled across the floor putting some distance between her and the infamous daiyoukai.

"Sesshoumaru, what are you doing here?" she asked incredulously when she could catch her breath.

"I could ask you the same, woman," he replied coolly, slipping his sword into the obi at his waist before smoothly pulling back a few errant strands of long, silver hair, "You're Inuyasha's mate, are you not? Tell me is that pathetic hanyou here as well?"

"No-no, he's not," she stuttered, her face turning from ashen to beet red, "And he's not my mate."

"I see." Casually turning on his heel, he headed towards the back of the hall.

Anger rose in her throat at the somewhat amused tone of his response. She scrambled to her feet with her arms akimbo and her tongue unleashed.

"You didn't answer my question," she demanded, her anxiety forgotten.

Pausing in his step, he turned to the side and stared at her impertinence over his shoulder. This human was obviously here alone or else he would be having a strained conversation with his half-brother and not her. Not to mention, she seemed far more ignorant than he as to where they were. Still, there was the small chance that she held some clue as to why he had been transported here against his will. In the end, even as he disliked her lack of respect, she had survived a direct blow from the Tokijin without a single burn to show for it. It seemed pointless to attempt to kill her again.

"I was summoned here by a scroll," he answered with an icy look.

"A scroll? What kind of scroll?" she asked, her voice softening under his glare.

"A renku poem. It was bequeathed to me by my father."

Her eyes widened.

And his eyes narrowed in reply. He turned to face her. "What do you know, woman?"

"I was reading a renku scroll right before I came here."

"Whose scroll?"

"It belonged to Inuyasha. It was in a trunk with things that belonged to his mother. No one could read it except for me and when I finished, I woke up here."

Another lovely inheritance from his father. A bitter, if not subtle, smile adorned his face.

"Come," he beckoned, and he once again headed towards the rear of the hall, "There is writing over here that I wish for you read."

Fingering the frayed edges of her kanji notes, she cautiously followed him. Something still felt off to her though. This place looked real and it felt real. Her sore bottom attested to that well enough. But even so, some aspect of this place just didn't seem right.

Spanning out far beyond what she could see, the hall proved even larger than she had originally thought. Lanterns flickered beside gorgeous murals that saturated the walls with color and life. The elegant artwork flowed gently over each of the panels and she soon recognized them as stories from her childhood. A smile found her lips when she spied tiny Issun fighting the bandit or the bamboo cutter discovering the little moon princess hidden in a stalk of bamboo. Modest shrines were set along the walls at the end of each mural where sticks of incense burned to honor the stories told.

"Burning incense," Kagome whispered to herself, the gears of her mind working. The air wasn't thick with the smoky aroma she had grown up with at her family shrine. In fact, the air didn't smell at all. It was flat and plain. The flowers she had seen earlier had no fragrance either and even the ocean she had hadn't had that brininess she had always loved. Her gaze rising to swaying locks of silver, she studied the daiyoukai ahead of her. Sesshoumaru had asked her if Inuyasha was here, but wasn't he an inuyoukai? Just by scenting the air, Inuyasha knew who was nearby without any trouble. Shouldn't his brother, who is full-blooded, be able to do the same, if not better?

"Sesshoumaru," she asked sheepishly, "Can you smell anything here?"

"No," he replied after a long moment, "There are no scents in this place." It was irritating to be impaired but admitting so was salt in the wound.

"So, that's why you asked if Inuyasha was here? It was because you couldn't smell him.

He continued to walk in silence

She took his lack of a response as a yes and smiled at her newfound analytical prowess. Well, it wasn't that hard to figure out, but any victory was a good one. However, her smile quickly dissipated with a new thought. When she had entered the hall, she had been doused in a fiery blast. During her travels in the Sengoku Jidai, she had been lit on fire a few times and that was no ordinary fire. As she considered that fact, she remembered that Sesshoumaru had had his sword drawn when she first saw him.

"We're here," he announced abruptly. Stopping before a large, wooden door with a series of characters carved into it, he elaborated. "This door appears to be the way out. Most of the kanji is familiar to me, but there are several crude ones whose meanings escape my knowledge. A lowly human, such as you, may understand them with better ease."

'Lowly human?' she mouthed in disbelief. He can't read it, so he insults me and then expects me to do it? What makes him think he's better than me? He's a youkai who stabs his way through every situation. And he insinuates that I'm the crude one?

"Read it."

"Why don't you open the door in the sophisticated youkai lord way and just use your sword to blow a hole in it."

"You should know quite well that my sword has no effect in this place." He reached for Tokijin's hilt.

Glaring at him with a mix of anger and puzzlement, she felt a gnawing feeling grow in the pit of her stomach as he drew the sword. With a swift movement, he swung it down and a terrible sizzling flame erupted from the blade, striking the door with a thundering boom that resounded throughout the hall. The color drained from her face as she recognized the torrent of fire as the same one that had engulfed her when she had entered earlier.

"You tried to kill me?"

"Yes."

"Why?" she asked, not sure if she really wanted to know why and half wishing she could just forget that it happened to begin with. After all, this wasn't the first time he'd tried to kill her. Something or someone was always trying to kill her and what was even more disturbing was how ambivalent she felt about it at this point.

"You have no scent. Now read this door," he replied impatiently.

Kagome stared at him in deepening disbelief. 'I have no scent? What does that mean? He didn't know I was there, so he just reacted when I opened the door? I thought Inuyasha was impulsive sometimes, but I can definitely see that it's hereditary.'

Mumbling under her breath about sword happy youkai brothers, she approached the door. However, her irritation was forgotten as she pored over the writing, marveling at how perfectly intact all of it had remained. There wasn't even a scorch mark from the blast.

He cleared his throat.

And she quickly switched her priorities to concentrate on the engraved kanji.

"Ink glides across skin," she read aloud, remembering the line, "Shifting symbols part a way. Darkness swallows two."

The spoken characters began to glow, bathing them both in an eerie, blue light.

She hesitated.

"Continue," he commanded evenly.

"Black water breaks upon wood."

The blue glow ceased to spread into the new stanza. She repeated the line several times.

"Black water breaks upon wood," he recited the line, and the glow began to expand again, seeping into the new line.

"Shells sing shelter within wind," she continued.

"Shells sing shelter within wind," he repeated.

"Hidden from the sky," she read, watching the first line of the next stanza grow in light before he could repeat it after her. "Brave through storm the sun and moon. Seeking the before."

"Distant tales seven there are," he followed, struggling slightly with several of the kanji, "Battle cries and wishes scorned."

"The bear challenges. The boy of golden will and strength. Trees hold victory."

As she spoke the final character, the door radiated a brilliant blue light before vaporizing into sparkling dust. The soft rays of the morning sunshine shone through the newly opened doorway and gnarled, weatherworn stairs led up out of the room into a thick conifer forest.

She smiled. "Finally, I'm going home."

His brow slightly furrowed, he hesitated at the foot of the stairs, watching as she sprang happily up them. If this truly was the way out of this place, his sense of smell would have returned. As he sniffed the air, he searched for the pungent fragrance of pine or the scent of wild game foraging in the forest. None of it existed. Her conclusion was premature. They were still trapped and were probably going to be for some time. After all, no enchanted scroll that belonged to a daiyoukai, such as his father, would be so easily solved. He smirked at the thought and began to climb the stairs.


	3. Forever Dawn

Chapter Three: Forever Dawn

A figure in white picked his way down the steep, mountain path. The crisp air kissed his face with a gentle breeze and the thick blanket of pine needles yielded softly under his footfalls. Penetrating through the thick canopy of conifer, the bright, morning light dappled Sesshoumaru, leaving him in neither shade nor sun. He felt at peace here. Traveling through the wilderness was one of the few pleasures he indulged in. It always gave him a sense of freedom that as a youkai lord he rarely enjoyed.

He frowned. But this place was not free. Instead, it was an elaborate trap. His jaw tightened as his anger rose, first at being manipulated but also for his own foolishness. He hadn't seen any of this coming.

As quickly as it came, his anger evaporated as he watched the clumsy woman slip on pine needles again, nearly toppling over in the process. Regaining her balance, she resumed her purposeful stride down the path, her determination boundless even after several hours of wandering through the never-ending forest.

He often found himself staring at the strange woman. In all his dealings with his half-brother, he had never paid much attention to her, except to note that she wore rather obscene clothing. Oddly enough, it seemed appropriate that someone as crude as Inuyasha would keep such tasteless company. Still, even as his thoughts revolved around her strangeness, she was proving to be far more complex than his initial assumption and surprisingly fascinating as well.

There was a quality to her that seemed to be an odd compromise of both high-born refinement and low-born execution. For instance, while her clothing appeared appropriate for a fallen woman who had perhaps fallen too far, it was also well tailored and the fabric finely made. By reading the renku scroll, she had established that she was well educated, yet as he listened to her whispered grumblings about being lost and having a creepy youkai staring at her constantly, her choice in lingo was often rough and poorly chosen. This human was simply out of place in the Sengoku Jidai, so where did she come from?

As she followed the meandering path, Kagome's infinite enthusiasm had finally found its limit. Nothing around her had changed no matter how far she walked. Even the sun hadn't risen any higher in the sky since she emerged from the stairs hours ago. Many of the trees had become strangely familiar and she had started memorizing their distinct shapes for the daunting prospect of discovering them again further down the path, a fact she had already begun to prove. In the distance, she could see the vague outlines of mountains and forests, but they resembled watercolor paintings more than real landscape. More than ever, she was certain that she was still trapped within the magical realm connected to the scroll. The only thing that might reveal a clue as to why she was here and how she could get home was perhaps the poem itself.

'Ink glides across skin? What does that…? Mmm, I want onigiri,' she thought before her brain was hijacked by her stomach. Clutching at her complaining belly, she attempted to drive out the bento boxes that invaded her mind. How many hours had it been since she had eaten? Without her backpack, all her emergency rations were gone. Desperate for anything reasonably edible, she scanned the forest floor. Then, nestled beneath the boughs of a fallen tree, the rust colored caps of a clump of mushrooms caught her eye. With more energy than she had had for hours, she was swiftly upon them, plucking one from its nest.

"Do not eat those, human," Sesshoumaru warned evenly as she held the delectable mushroom up to her lips.

"Why?" she asked almost plaintively.

"That is a waraitake mushroom and unless you wish to die laughing, you should not eat it," he explained with distaste. "Even my ward knows better than to pick those."

Grumbling loudly, her stomach replied in protest.

He watched her for a moment and then sighed. "Come."

Dropping the mushroom, she followed him warily down the path. Although he appeared to be casually strolling, he moved with such ease over the uneven ground that she found it difficult to keep up with him without losing her footing. After several minutes of searching, he stopped beside a row of ferns.

"The younger shoots are edible but avoid any full-grown plants," he advised, gesturing towards the smaller ferns.

The dark thought that they might be poisonous briefly crossed her mind. However, as she busily began to pick the tender shoots, she easily dismissed it. If he had wanted to kill her, he would use his claws and not resort to something cowardly like deceit. Besides, wouldn't he have just let her ignorance do the deed by letting her eat those mushrooms? Greedily, she stuffed the shoots into her mouth, noting that they had a sort of green and nutty flavor. She did wonder as she finished off the last shoot, just how much her lack of smell affected the taste. Bland or not, she felt much better now.

"Thank you," she thanked him with a respectful bow, and began to pluck a few more shoots to keep for later.

He stared at her, his mind working behind his eyes. Then he gave her a slight nod before continuing down the path, walking slower to match her pace.

"Where are you from, woman?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Eh?" she mumbled, a piece of fern protruding from her mouth. Later had come a bit sooner than she had anticipated.

"You are not from the Sengoku Jidai. Your dress, your mannerisms, and your accent are foreign to this world. Where exactly are you from?"

"Well, it's actually a bit hard to explain," she began thoughtfully, removing the half-eaten shoot from her mouth. "I'm from a city called Tokyo many years in the future. There's an enchanted well in the shrine where I grew up, and one day, I fell into it and ended up here."

With a raised brow, he stared at her out of the corner of his eye, watching her expression and then he nodded.

"Sesshoumaru?"

"Yes."

"How are we going to get home?"

"The poem is the key," he replied, "What do you know of renku poetry, woman?"

"Umm, they're poems where a group of people alternately write in different stanzas and link them together with common themes. We did a few of them in class and there's even a renku club on campus."

"Class? Club? Campus?"

"Eh…" she muttered and followed it with an embarrassed chuckle, "Never mind."

"To prove that you are indeed knowledgeable, tell me how long renku poems are?"

"Thirty-six stanzas?"

"Correct."

"So, the poem is incomplete?"

He nodded.

Certain experiences were starting to become clear to her. For instance, the need to take turns reading the poem on the door. If a renku poem is about exchange, then it made sense that they had to exchange reading it. With more poetry likely to appear soon enough, she flipped open her battered kanji notebook and thumbed through the pages. She had all but forgotten most of the poem up until now and she lamented her lack of preparation.

An uneasy feeling ghosted through her and she looked up to discover his impassive gaze eyeing her inquisitively. Her cheeks flushed to a rosy hue. It was one thing for him to be studying her from behind. At least she could pretend he was just randomly looking in her direction. But for him to do it while walking next to her was a little more than she could handle.

'What is he looking at?' she thought next, her embarrassment darkening into a deeper blush. 'Do I have food on my face?' She swept her fingers around her mouth and found nothing errant, which only exacerbated her concern. 'Wait, is he looking at my chest?' she thought next as she attempted to follow his line of sight. 'He IS looking at my chest.'

Her cheeks flushed to a brilliant red under his steady and unwavering gaze. She was used to Miroku doing it unabashedly. Inuyasha was equally blatant about it as well, although it always seemed more like a lack of manners from him than the monk's complete lecherousness. Now someone who was essentially a nobleman was doing it just as rudely as those two. Did men from the past not know how to be subtle when it comes to ogling?

Then his attention fell away, his focus returning to the path ahead.

She sighed in relief and went back to her notes, trying to brush up a bit on her kanji knowledge.

Immediately and much to her consternation, she felt his stare upon her once again. Exasperated, she glared back at him, hoping to dissuade him. But then, her expression softened. His eyes weren't locked on her chest but moving quickly up and down. It puzzled her at first, however as she looked down at her notebook and then back up at him, she realized that he wasn't staring at her but reading her kanji notes.

"Here," she offered, holding the notebook out for him to take.

"This Sesshoumaru has no need for your charity."

"It's not charity," she disagreed as she searched for the right words, "It's my gratitude for you helping me to find food."

He watched her, mulling over her explanation. Then he reluctantly, but gently, plucked the notebook from her. Nimbly holding the spiral-bound notebook in his palm, he delicately turned the pages with his clawed thumb.

In the reversal of roles, she now found herself staring at him. It hadn't even occurred to her that with one arm, it would be a challenge to walk and read the notebook. However, for once her obliviousness had served her well, since he undoubtedly would have been irritated if he suspected that she pitied him over his handicap. Truthfully, she was impressed.

Together, they walked in silence as he skimmed through her notes. She felt a great swelling of pride over sharing them with him. While the handwriting wasn't elegant, it was at the very least legible. More importantly, it felt good to know that her studying and schoolwork from the future was actually useful and valued in the past. No one except Miroku ever took an interest in her studies and she half thought he did it as an attempt to sneak a grope in when she wasn't paying attention. Mostly they seemed to think that it was a waste of time, after all calculus doesn't really help kill youkai or save villages from bandits. Of course, they never said as much. But they didn't have to.

"Sesshoumaru?"

"Yes."

"You said the poem was the key. What does the poem mean?"

"Ink glides across skin. Shifting symbols part a way. Darkness swallows two," he recited the first stanza absently, his attention still absorbed by the notebook, "What does that mean to you?"

"Ink on skin, might mean the scroll and the symbols are the letters," she deduced, thinking back, "Darkness swallowing two. It was like being overcome by darkness when I was being transported here, so the last line means two people being taken away?"

"I would agree. Black water breaks upon wood. Shells sing shelter within wind," he spoke next.

With his words, the images of the dark ocean and the solitary building standing against the waves came to her mind. "The building we were in was founded on wood pillars above the ocean and had wind-chimes hanging from its eaves."

"Hidden from the sky. Brave through storm the sun and moon. Seeking the before," he repeated, "What room did you wake in?"

"A room filled with paintings of the sun and of the goddess Amaterasu. Why? What room did you arrive in?"

"In a room with imagery of the moon and of the god Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto."

"The god of the moon," she said thoughtfully, "So are we the sun and the moon?"

"Perhaps."

"We are seeking to return home. So, I guess it makes sense."

"Distant tales seven there are. Battle cries and wishes scorned."

"What do you think that means?"

"The murals on the walls of the large chamber depicted stories," he answered at length, silently acknowledging on how much more she liked to ask questions than Rin.

"Is that all?"

"I do not know."

"Well, there must be something more to it than that," she reasoned, tapping her lips with her finger as she tried to think, "What's the last stanza."

"The bear challenges. Boy of golden will and strength. Trees hold victory," he replied, irritation rising in his voice, and then pointedly added. "Human memories are far more deficient than I was aware of."

She smiled apologetically at him. "I'm sorry."

Still, bears and golden boys seemed familiar. Wasn't there a story about a golden boy with great strength and woodland friends, namely a bear? What was his name?

"Oh!" she exclaimed loudly, "His name was-!"

"Kintaro!" a gruff voice called out ahead of them, finishing her revelation with a sneer.

They both stopped in their tracks to stare up at a massive bear that waited a scant few strides ahead of them.

Pacing menacingly, it glared at them with dark eyes and soon a wicked grin spread across its muzzle. "Kintaro, where have you been?"

"Kintaro?" Sesshoumaru repeated the name, dropping the notebook onto the ground to retrieve Tokijin from his obi.

"Yes, you, Kintaro. How long did you think you could hide from me?" the bear growled.

More perplexed than concerned, Sesshoumaru and Kagome eyed each other.

"There is no one here by that name," the daiyoukai explained.

"Enough of your tricks, boy," the bear replied with finality before bellowing its war cry and charging forward.

At the approach of certain, thundering death, Sesshoumaru swept his sword down, unleashing a fiery blast at the beast. The explosion ripped through the air and consumed it in a surge of fire and electricity.

She breathed a sigh of relief at the torrent. For once, she felt happy at the sight of Tokijin's fire.

Then, through the swirling flame, the bear burst unscathed, sparks glinting in its eyes and its tooth-filled maw agape.

Screaming, she turned away as it swatted Tokijin aside and landed hard atop a blank-faced Sesshoumaru.


	4. Kintaro and Monkey

Chapter Four: Kintaro and Monkey

"Kintaro, I've caught you."

A sword clanged to the ground.

"Hn."

"Where have you been?" the bear asked plaintively. "I missed you. I've been looking everywhere for you. I'm tired of this game."

'I missed you?' Kagome wondered wordlessly, 'Game? What game?' Hesitantly, she finally peeked through her closed eyes, unsure of what carnage would greet her. Perhaps it would be the bloody, charred smear of a bear or a flattened daiyoukai, but it would almost definitely not be the relatively loving scene that awaited her.

Reared up on its thick haunches, the bear stood with its heavy paws draped gently around the rather diminutive daiyoukai. Less than pleased, Sesshoumaru was not receiving the embrace without objection. After dropping Tokijin, his hand had gone for the bear's throat where a glowing vapor began to melt from his claws.

The noxious fumes caught in her throat and her body shook with wracking coughs.

However, the acid did little to curb the bear's affections as it stooped its head to nuzzle his face with its cool, wet nose.

"Tch," he grunted in disgust, and then he bunched his legs beneath his body. Summoning his strength, he threw his shoulder into the beast, knocking it back through the trees. Trunks snapping like brittle twigs, it tumbled down the mountainside before sliding to a stop in a small clearing. Wiping his cheek with the back of his hand, Sesshoumaru bent over, retrieving his sword.

The bear slowly climbed back onto its feet, but he wasn't going to let it off the hook so easily.

"Sesshoumaru," she called out to him as he headed down the mountain after it, "Wait! I don't think it was trying to hurt you!"

Ignoring her, his strides quickened as he closed in on his prey. While energy blasts from his sword and his acid appeared to be useless, perhaps the actual blade would do the trick.

"Kintaro, that was amazing!" the bear exclaimed, shaking the dirt and splinters from his thick fur, "And here I was hoping that I would win this time."

"And there will be no next time either," he promised coldly and sprang forth, moving like a silver shadow through the air. Then in a flash, he was upon the bear, slicing the blade across its neck. It was strange, though. His sword met its hide, but instead of carving through it, the sword glided harmlessly through the fur.

"Is this a new game?" the bear asked.

Stunned, he silently stared back in return, his mind at work. This was perplexing. The creature was completely uninjured no matter how he attacked. He could almost accept that his sword was ineffective. The fire blast had already proven to be undependable and the blade itself was something he rarely used anyway, but even his own razor-sharp claws were dull against its hide. And his acid, which can melt the thickest armor into bubbling slurry, was useless. With each attack, it felt as if he was tearing and ripping at a cushion of air and not at a real enemy. At a cushion of air…

"Or a barrier," he said under his breath.

"A barrier?" Kagome repeated as she made her way down the final bit of rock-strewn slope before sliding to a stop beside him, "Is the bear being protected by a barrier?"

Ignoring her yet again, Sesshoumaru walked towards the beast and landed a blow with his fist across its muzzle. Blunt force was always an option.

"Kintaro, I don't like this game. It feels like you're trying to hurt me. I thought you were my friend," the bear pleaded as he grabbed it by the nape of its neck and flung it hard into the ground.

"Stop, Sesshoumaru!" Kagome yelled as he pulled it out of the bear-shaped crater.

"Kintaro, I don't understand…"

'Stupid, stubborn youkai who don't listen,' she raged silently as her cheeks began to flush hot with anger, 'Why don't they ever listen? It doesn't matter if they're full or half a youkai, they still just charge ahead, their pride nullifying their brains.'

Like a massive rag doll in his hand, Sesshoumaru hurled the bear again, but this time against a boulder, fracturing the rock on impact.

'So, what if the damn thing gave you a hug and a kiss? Are you going to kill our only clue out of this place over something dumb like that?! Stupid youkai!'

"Kintaro-" the bear begged.

"Die," he interrupted.

"Please…"

"SIT!" Kagome screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing down the mountainside and into the valley below. The word lingered unnaturally in the air, haunting her as the color leeched from her face.

Frozen in mid-strike, Sesshoumaru slowly retracted his fist and turned to face the small, human woman who had now effectively gotten his attention.

'Stupid, stupid Kagome.'

"Did you just tell this Sesshoumaru to sit, woman?" he asked flatly, his tone not quite concealing a murderous edge.

"N-n-no," she stuttered with an uncomfortable laugh as she slowly started to back away, "You misunderstood me."

"Did I?" he replied, taking a step towards her.

"I-I was kidding. You know us lowly humans and our bad sense of humor."

"So, it would seem," he remarked after another step.

As he approached, visions of her much more fragile body being flung through the air and into the ground plagued her imagination, and she hastily stumbled back in retreat. Well, maybe she'd be lucky and survive this time, like she had before. However, that comforting thought flitted away when she saw her inevitable demise printed so clearly in his icy glare. She was screwed.

'Here lies Kagome. She told a dog demon lord to "sit" and he splattered her against a tree,' she imagined her epitaph and finished the thought with a sigh.

Then she furrowed her brow. At the very least, she wasn't going to go down without a fight. In mid-retreat, she bent down and picked up a splintered stick. She held it out in front of her in a threatening fashion, the burnt black point trembling.

Pausing a moment, Sesshoumaru arched an eyebrow at her shaky attempt at defense. But he wasn't fazed for long, and he took another step towards her.

"Oi Kintaro!" a small voice squeaked loudly as he took his last step forward to loom over her, daring her to strike, "What are you doing to Monkey?"

"Monkey?" he asked, irritated that he had even responded to the ridiculous name. Indifferent to the threat of being jabbed by a stick, he looked over at a tiny, brown creature that sat casually scratching at one of its long ears with a hindleg.

"Yeah, Monkey," it replied and gestured to itself with its forepaw, "You know. I'm Hare. You're Kintaro. That shaggy beast over there is Bear, and well, the dumb, ugly creature in front of you is Monkey. Boy, you're gone for a while and you forget all your friends."

'The dumb, ugly creature in front of you is Monkey?' Kagome thought, forgetting the impending danger that overwhelmed her a moment earlier. Hot and flustered, she could feel her anger brimming once again and not even a youkai lord could stand in her way. Striding forth with a fiery rage, she brushed past Sesshoumaru and stomped up to the furry mound with the fluffy, white tail.

"What's wrong with you, Monkey?" Hare said with disdain.

"Who the hell do you think you're calling a monkey?"

"I'm calling you a monkey, Monkey."

"I'm not a monkey."

"Well, you're ugly and stupid. Sounds like a monkey to me," it sneered, "Although your name being Monkey and you arguing against it definitely proves that you're stupid."

"That's not my name. My name is Kagome. Ka-go-me!"

"You can say that, but that doesn't make it true."

"Hush both of you," another voice called out and a tan animal with a stately rack of antlers emerged from the forest.

"Aww, I was only teasing," Hare whined, laying its ears back at the rebuke, "Besides Monkey started it."

"Enough," the deer said with finality, silencing the rabbit. Gracefully, the buck approached Sesshoumaru. "It has been a while, good friend."

"Hn," he snorted, unimpressed.

"The time for greetings however is over," it decreed, catching everyone's gaze. "The field awaits."

"What's in the field?" Kagome asked, her voice still a bit flustered.

"It's where we go to play the game," the bear answered, keeping a fair distance between himself and Sesshoumaru.

"What game?"

"The game we play every time Kintaro visits."

"And you think he's Kintaro?" she said, nodding towards the tall, light-skinned daiyoukai, "A chubby, red-cheeked, human boy with the kanji for gold on his chest?"

Sesshoumaru snorted at the description. The day's events were becoming less and less amusing.

"It's not that we think he is. He is Kintaro, like all the others before him," the deer said walking towards the clearing, "Just like you are Monkey and I am Deer."

"Look, I'm not a small, furry animal that plays in the trees and eats bugs out of other animals' fur."

"That doesn't mean you aren't Monkey," it sighed.

"But-"

"Who were the others you mentioned," Sesshoumaru interrupted.

"Kintaro, you have passed through here many times. And each time you arrive, we go play the game as it has always been."

Together, they followed the deer out into a bright clearing. Droplets of dew clung to thin wisps of grass, wetting their ankles as they passed through. Songbirds fluttered to and fro, their warbling songs celebrating the gentle sunlight. The serenity was a welcome relief and Kagome's mind began to relax, settling around a single thought.

"The game," she said thoughtfully, tapping her lip with a finger, "Are we going to wrestle?"

"Of course," Bear chimed in, "It's what we always do."

"It's just like the story," she whispered to herself, lost in thought and oblivious to Sesshoumaru's steady stare in her direction.

"What is the story?" he asked finally when an unsolicited explanation didn't seem forthcoming.

"You don't know the story of Kintaro?" she replied.

"Human folktales do not interest me."

"Well, it's about a really strong boy who lived in the mountains. He used to knock down trees with an axe and had a bunch of different, animal friends. Then one day after a wrestling game, a samurai showed up and took the boy into the city where he joined the army and became really powerful."

He looked at her blankly.

She winced at her poor story-telling skills. "Anyway, it seems like we're in that story."

"So, this is the story mentioned in the poem."

"The bear challenges. Boy of golden will and strength. Trees hold victory," she repeated the last stanza. With recent events, the poem had completely slipped her mind. "Maybe, if we complete the story, we'll get more of the missing lines and a clue how to get back home."

"Perhaps."

Ahead, the deer stopped in front of a large ring of hard-packed dirt. Stooping its head down, it snipped a grass leaf with its mouth and held it between its lips.

Springing with glee, Hare hopped out into the ring, patting down the few uneven areas with its hindlegs. Disinterested in playing anymore games, the bear collapsed onto the grass next to the ring. He had already had more than enough wrestling to satisfy him for the day.

"Perfect," Hare declared, surveying the ring proudly, and then he spun to face Kagome, "Monkey, I challenge you!"

"Me?!"

"Yes, you, stupid monkey. Now, come on or are you afraid? Do you have a yellow belly to go with your red butt?"

"Now, look here," she snapped, storming up to the smug, little rodent with her fists clenched.

"Begin," Deer proclaimed, dropping the leaf to signal the match.

Before she realized what was happening, the rabbit attacked. Hindlegs kicking out from beneath its nimble body, it landed a hard blow against the back of her knees and sent her to the ground with a shocked yelp. Then in a flash, it leapt onto her back and began to thump her hard, knocking the breath out of her with every smack.

"Oww! St-Stop it!" she coughed, trying desperately to breathe as she reached in vain for her agile tormentor and its delighted laugh.

Twitching its whiskers, a devious glint twinkled in its eye. With one quick movement, it flipped up her pleated skirt and slipped her panties down just far enough to expose the two rounded cheeks. Then with one hard, resounding thump, its hind foot came down on her rear end.

She howled in pain.

"Now you really do have a red butt," it cackled, springing away.

"You're dead, roadkill!" she yelled in seething rage as she pulled up her underwear and adjusted her skirt, both sets of cheeks burning hotter than the sun. She then staggered to her feet, her fierce glare seeking the vicious, little creature that would soon be nothing more than a smear on the bottom of her shoe.

"Monkey's out. Hare wins," Deer announced, nodding toward the grassy patch she had staggered out into, just beyond the ring. "Excellent moves, Hare, by the way."

"Thank you, Deer. I'd say it was too easy a challenge, but then again it was only Red Butt," it replied, combing its ears before turning to Sesshoumaru, "Oi, Kintaro. Where's my prize?"

"Prize?" he said reluctantly.

"Yeah, when we win, you give us a prize. It's what you're supposed to do. So, where's my prize?"

He stared at the brazen animal, contemplating his answer. If he was meant to follow the story, then he had to give it a gift.

"Very well," he finally answered at length, "If I decide to kill you, I shall do it quickly instead of making you suffer for being an irritating lout."

Hare opened its mouth as if to protest when it was suddenly grabbed by the ears, fingernails digging into its skin. Squealing in pain, it was thrown back into the ring.

"I want a rematch," Kagome declared, her voice low and leaving no room for debate.

Almost before the deer could drop the leaf, she was on the move, bounding across the ring towards the dizzy and confused rabbit. With one sweeping kick, it met her loafer with full force which sent it sailing into a patch of stinging nettles.

"Hare's out. Monkey wins," Deer announced.

Letting out a triumphant cheer, she proudly left the ring.

"Now for your gift," Deer interrupted the shocked amazement that rippled throughout the group.

Everyone turned their heads and looked expectantly at Sesshoumaru.

"No, that's okay. I've already gotten my prize," Kagome insisted, not really wanting to know what he might come up with for her.

"If you are satisfied, then we shall move on. I am certain that Hare will catch up to us eventually."

"Where are we going now?"

"Home, of course."

"Whose home-"

"Do you ever tire of asking questions, Monkey? You will find your answers soon enough," Deer sighed, crossing the clearing as headed towards the open valley below.

Quietly, they followed, absorbed by the scenery that surrounded them. Blue, red, and yellow wildflowers peppered the fields, their inviting hues enticing butterflies to flutter about them. In the distance, a ribbon of shimmering water cut through grassy fields. The river bisected the length of the valley, and as they neared, it soon became clear that its dark depths would pose yet another problem.

Crossing the pebbly shore to the riverside, Kagome knelt beside it and scooped up a handful of water to drink. As it ran down her throat, its coolness revitalized her after the long hike and the embarrassing wrestling match.

"We must cross it," Bear spoke up after stealing a drink of water as well.

While it was a narrow river, she realized that it was indeed far too deep to simply wade across and she scanned along the bank, hoping to find a way across without getting wet. Strangely alluring, her gaze kept returning to the same patch of river, drawn by some mysterious feature that appeared out of place. Finally, her eyes brightened as they focused on a massive tree standing alone on their side of the shore, far from any others of an equal size. In fact, there were no other trees in the valley except for this one.

"Sesshoumaru," she called out, "The poem. I remember what to do now."

"What did you remember?" he replied. As it was, he could not see why the animals didn't simply swim across like any other beast.

"The poem says that the trees hold victory, and now that I think about it, I know how. In the story, right before they go home, they come across a river with no way to cross. Kintaro sees a tree and uproots it so that the animals have a bridge to get over the river. If you push over that tree, I think we'll find the key."

"Hn," he snorted and then walked towards it.

With barely a grunt, he pressed his hand against the trunk, and its sturdy roots started to creak and snap. Teetering for a moment, the tree relished its final moments touching the sky before bridging the river in a thundering crash. Nestled in the overturned earth, a gilded seal laid, imprinted with the character for gold.

Sesshoumaru knelt to retrieve the hefty piece of metal. Feeling the fine pattern of writing on the back with his fingertips, he flipped the seal over for a welcomed discovery.

"Good luck," Deer said warmly, and then he leapt gracefully onto the fallen tree. After a few strides across the makeshift bridge, he vanished into nothingness.

"I will defeat you next time, Kintaro," the bear vowed with a grin. Then it too climbed onto the tree and disappeared.

A brown blur darted across the ground and scrambled up the side of the tree. Pausing at the top, the disheveled rabbit scratched desperately at its itchy skin.

"Red Butt!" it yelled with unrivaled contempt at Kagome before shaking its fluffy tail derisively at her. But before she could insult it in return, it sprang across and faded from sight.

"Well, you're Itchy Butt! Stupid rabbit. It'll be a long time before I think one of those is cute again," she muttered under her breath.

"Danger mounts seeking your lives. Bird nor insect will give peace," Sesshoumaru slowly read aloud before sending her a look to go with his command, "Read, woman."

"Oh!" she said as he handed her the seal. Elegantly engraved on the surface were the next lines of the poem. A soft, blue glow filled the first stanza. With a grin spreading across her face, her eyes followed the next sequence of words. "Great journey begins. Rowing to your destiny. Seek house of glory."

"Tiny voice echoing pride. Hand of princess you do find."

"A bandit slices. A hidden needle stabs fear. A mallet grants hope."

The final syllable spoken, the seal shattered into sparkling dust and an empty space behind them ripped open, revealing a series of steps that rose into a darkened space of sky.

"Let us go," Sesshoumaru ordered as he headed up the white blocks with strange black markings.

"Mahjong tiles?" she wondered, looking at the steps more carefully, "But, I've never seen mahjong tiles this big before."

Looking up to hopefully catch his glance, she instead found him halfway up and ignoring her as usual. Frowning, she began her climb until she was struck with a disconcerting thought.

"Sesshoumaru, what happened to my kanji notebook? Sesshoumaru?"


	5. Tiny Finger

Chapter Five: Tiny Finger

"Where the heck am I?" Kagome muttered under her breath as she brushed her bangs out of her face. No matter where she looked, what the dappled light revealed was always the same. A gray wall of fabric or at least that's what she thought it was. Cocooned within its folds, she was surrounded by spun threads as thick as her forearms. They resembled rope more than thread, and it was through the tiny gaps in their weaving that any light entered her textile prison.

Sighing, she half-wished that the mahjong tile stairs hadn't disappeared after she had climbed past them, thereby cutting off her only retreat. After all, the endless forest was pleasant compared to the stuffy labyrinth she now found herself in. However, that wasn't the only thing that had vanished. She hadn't seen Sesshoumaru since he crossed the threshold, and her growing anxiety over his absence was more than a little surprising.

Grumbling in frustration, she reached out above her head and grabbed at the mass of fabric. Getting a good fistful, she pulled it behind her as she staggered forward. She didn't need his help. Wasn't she a strong, modern woman who had fought against the fiercest youkai of the past and their counterparts known as chemistry and geometry in the present? No matter what, she always managed to come away victorious and better yet, intact.

Losing focus as she rallied her spirits, she stumbled forward, her foot catching on a seam. Through the twisted fabric, she fell headlong into something decidedly soft. After a dazed moment, she realized that the fleecy feeling that comforted her face was not the same as what she had been trying to navigate through. For one, it was quite pleasant. With a smile, she dragged her hand back and forth through the downy pile. Memories of sheepskin throws she occasionally saw at the department store came to mind. The difference being that this felt deeper and plusher. Dancing through the fur, her fingers sought out a few of the wavy locks and she wound and braided them in delight.

"What are you doing, woman?" Sesshoumaru asked tersely.

Her hands stopped and her smile sobered. Somewhere, she felt a pair of piercing eyes boring through the back of her skull. When she turned over, she followed the cream-colored fur upward until she found a rather irritated daiyoukai. With a quick yank, her fur futon vanished, and her head met the all too familiar fabric with a soft thump.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, regretting nothing.

His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her sincerity.

"Hmph," he grunted finally, and then ran his claws through his disheveled, silver hair. His hand slipped to Tokijin at his waist.

"W-wait," she stammered, raising her hands defensively as he retrieved the sword, "I didn't mean to-"

"I tire of this absurdity, and I will entertain it no longer," he declared callously as he raised the weapon over her.

"No!" she screamed.

The sword arced through the air towards her head until it met the fabric. It sliced through it, creating a hole through which warm light streaked in. Satisfied, he stepped over her trembling body and through the opening.

"Woman, get up. We're leaving," he ordered as he looked over his shoulder. "Woman?"

"Eh?" she muttered, blinking away her shock.

He frowned. "Stand up. We're leaving."

"You were making a hole to get out?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say that you were? I thought you were going to kill me."

"Did you wish for me to kill you?"

"No, of course not," she exclaimed, shaking her head in exasperation, "But next time, you should tell someone why you're swinging a sword in their direction if it isn't to kill them."

"That is not a situation that is likely to repeat, woman."

"And one more thing, I have a name. It's not just "woman" or "lowly human", you know. It's-"

"Issunboshi!" a voice called out cheerfully behind them, and the ground began to shake with a steady rhythm.

Slowly turning around, they both looked up into the dark eyes of the largest woman either of them had ever seen.

Leaning forward, her weathered face filled their entire line of sight. Wrinkles carved deep trenches across her face and a few hairs curled erratically off her chin and upper lip. Her lips parted into friendly grin, revealing her worn and yellowed teeth. Already rather grateful that she couldn't smell anything, Kagome soon wished that she couldn't hear either as the elderly woman exhaled her hot breath on them with a screech. "My goodness, what have you done to your blanket?"

"My blanket?" Kagome asked sheepishly, doing her best not to look at the black, hairy mole sitting proudly on her cheek.

"Yes, your blanket. You're such a mischievous boy. Young men like you should be out on adventures, not destroying the few mementos that your mother has left of your childhood."

"Boy?!" she exclaimed, and then pointed back towards Sesshoumaru, "Don't you mean him?"

"Who? There's no one there. See how you're treating your old, decrepit mother today. Your father will hear of this if you trouble me anymore, young man."

"I'm Issunboshi?" she whispered quietly, hoping to be out of earshot of the cantankerous woman as she surveyed the damage done to her precious blanket, "And she doesn't even see you?"

"So, it would seem," he confirmed nonchalantly, more interested in getting the matted tangles out of his hair than the anger of a giant woman.

"Why do I have to be a boy?"

"It seems to be part of the poetry exchange," he replied, furrowing his brow as he worked on a particularly stubborn knot, "I was the hero in the previous story and now it appears to be your turn."

"But didn't I already play a part in the last one?"

"You were not the hero, but merely a support character and a ridiculous one at that-"

"All right, all right," she interrupted waving her hands, hoping to prevent any further elaboration on her role in the last story. Even now her cheeks began to flush. Stupid rabbit.

He sighed. "What is the story of Issunboshi?"

"Let's see… Issunboshi was a gift to a childless, elderly couple by the sun goddess, Amaterasu. About the size of a finger, he was a small boy, hence his name Issunboshi or Tiny Finger.

"Obviously."

"Eh-heh. When the boy grew up, he decided that he would leave for the capital and serve the emperor. Becoming a guard for the emperor's daughter, he protects her from a bandit for which he receives a mallet as a gift from the princess. The hammer hits him three times, and with each blow he grows bigger until he's a full-grown man. Then with the emperor's permission, he marries the girl and they live happily ever after."

She pursed her lips, trying to remember the story in more detail. And then she grinned slyly. She knew what to do. "Mother!"

"Yes, Issunboshi?" the woman replied, pinching the tear in the blanket together.

"I wish to leave here and journey to the capital so that I may serve our glorious emperor."

"You cannot for you are too small, my son. You will surely be hurt."

"No, I must insist, Mother. For the glory of my name, our family, and the great goddess, Amaterasu, I must leave for Kyoto and seek my future."

"Now-" the woman objected.

"I am leaving!"

"Wait, wait a moment! Let us at least speak with your father before you decide," she stuttered, her voice sharp with concern, and then she rushed away, blanket still in hand.

"It's huge!" Kagome gasped as she looked out across the massive room no longer obstructed by the blanket or the woman.

Sesshoumaru looked up from his hair and glanced around the barren, one room house. "There is nothing amazing about a shack."

"True, but it's so big," she replied as she walked to the edge of the gigantic plank they were standing upon, careful to avoid the deep grooves in between the grains. The area was like a perfect square canyon with the raised floor below wrapping like a horseshoe around a burnt black firepit. Smoke wafted from the fire as its orange flames licked the bottom of an iron pot. The sounds of the bubbling sent her stomach grumbling even though she couldn't smell what was cooking.

"But he's too small, Kenta," the old woman pleaded outside as two shadows moved beyond the doorway, "He's our blessing so how can we let him go to die?"

"He's not a child anymore, but a young man," a gruff voice replied, and a hunched silhouette filled the doorway, "It would be the greatest honor for us if our blessing sought such a glorious path in life."

A thin, old man ambled forward, his shuffling steps shaking the ground despite his frailty. When he finally arrived at the table, he leaned in close to Kagome. The two stared at one another, neither concealing their fascination with the other. Sharing the same deep furrows on his face as the old woman, what was left of his gray hair was bound neatly in a topknot upon his shiny head. His eyes drew her in, and she watched herself reflected in them. True, it was a story and more than likely an illusion, but she could see his pride in her. The pride a father has for his child. Feeling an ache in her heart, her eyes began to well up.

"He should at least eat before he goes," the woman blurted out. Smoothly, she dabbed away the rivers of tears that slipped down her cheeks.

When she was done, she tenderly handed Kagome a single grain of rice. Holding the sticky oval with both hands, she took a moment to marvel at its enormous size before attempting to eat it as politely and femininely as she could.

"We couldn't ask for a better child. He's both brave and cheap to feed," the man remarked with a hearty laugh, sending his wife into another fit of tears.

Quickly finishing her meal, Kagome wiped away the gooey bits that clung to her fingers.

"Mother?" she called out after the woman managed to compose herself, "I need a needle so that I may fight like a true warrior."

"A needle?"

"Well, a needle that I can use as a sword."

"Oh," she muttered, and she hurried over to retrieve a small box bundled in cloth, "Choose whichever one you like, Issun."

Gently, she opened the case in front of Kagome, revealing a number of camel bone needles. Stepping into the box, she examined them, picking up each of them as she tried to gauge which one would do best.

"Sesshoumaru?" she called out, looking back to where she last saw him, only to find him conveniently missing, "Fine then, I'll just choose this one." She picked up one of the smaller needles and held it out in front of her. It felt light, but it didn't seem too thin and likely to break. The tip was sharp, and she swung it energetically through the air, complete with sword-related sound effects.

The old couple looked at her quizzically and her cheeks flushed.

"I'll take this one. Oh, which way is the capital, Father?"

"Oh, let's see," he wondered, rubbing his forehead, "I suppose you'd have to go up the Yodo River to get to Kyoto."

"The river?!"

"Why yes, yes. That would be the best way, I suspect."

"Hold on," the woman interrupted with a smile. She scurried over to the firepit and returned with a lacquered rice bowl and two chopsticks, "A boat and two oars."

"That's my boat?!"

"Wonderful idea, Mori. I knew there was a reason why I married you," he said with a grin at his wife, much to her embarrassment. "Now my son you must go soon, before the sun rises too high."

"Now?!"

"Of course. Don't worry the fish won't be stirring until evening."

"Fish?!"

"Issun, are you brave or not? You convinced us with your speech earlier. We believe in you, for you are our dearest blessing from the great, sun goddess, Amaterasu. How could a goddess so glorious allow you to be consumed by water birds or spiders? Now go and bring honor to your name and our house."

"Water birds? Spiders?" Kagome repeated as he scooped her up into his hand. Tenderly, he carried her outside into the bright, mid-morning light. He was shortly followed out by the woman who now had a curious white bump sitting on her shoulder.

"Sesshoumaru?"

"Yes," he replied placidly, his body remaining elegant and poised despite the lurching beneath him.

"Do you know how to row?"


	6. Gentle Currents

Chapter Six: Gentle Currents

An uncomfortable silence was probably the best way to describe it. Sure there were plenty of sounds surrounding her, like the lapping of water against the sandy shore or the twittering of song birds flitting through the reeds. With even the soothing rush of the breeze passing by her ears, that little, awkward feeling of a long silence remained, making time bloat. 

Expertly, she dipped the chopstick into the shallow water, seeking the silty bottom with the tip. With a careful push, she propelled the makeshift boat forward and then repeated the process over again. It was a simple enough method and she only spun the bowl in dizzying circles a few times before perfecting it.

Seated intimately close to her bare legs was the proud and aloof inu daiyoukai. The rice bowl which would have fit one small, finger-sized boy comfortably was a bit stressed to accompany both the high schoolgirl and the full-grown demon. After wisely removing her shoes, she stood carefully between the swirls of red and white silk and the downy fur of his long pelt. Ever mindful of where her light steps treaded, she had once stepped on a dog's tail in the past. It wasn't a pleasant experience for the animal and she could only imagine what the repercussions would be if she were to do it to one that was larger and well, meaner.

She glanced down at Sesshoumaru in between thrusts. Peacefully reclined, his head was rested comfortably against the rim of the bowl. His eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn't actually asleep. He was merely certain that there was nothing worth occupying his attention at the moment. 

She however, wanted to talk. It wasn't so much that she wanted to talk to him. She didn't actually care who it was that she was talking to so long as it was someone. Her task was desperately dull, a job she had begrudgingly accepted on the idea that if any fish or birds decided that they looked like a tasty bowl of someone's escaping breakfast, he would dispatch them in his usual fashion. Nevertheless, she was beginning to believe that she had gotten the poorer end of the deal. Swiftly brushing that thought aside, she returned her focus to him. As it was, how to talk to the youkai lord eluded her, so she set to simply study him as she went about her work.

Dawning on her gradually, she couldn't actually remember looking at him in any great detail in the past. Before being trapped in the poem, she only saw him when he and Inuyasha quarreled. To say quarreling was putting it mildly, but when she considered how violent the feudal era was, it seemed at the very least, appropriate. After all, neither one had killed the other yet. What she had figured out about the daiyoukai was that he was a cold, ruthless elitist who held others with disdain and contempt. Slaying anyone who stood in his way, he literally lived up to his name through death and destruction. Yet, here he sat beneath the dappled boughs of the overhanging trees, the picture of serenity and beauty.

The soft light reflected off of his flawless, alabaster skin leaving Kagome to silently wonder if he even had pores. She then wisely rejected a fleeting whim of brushing her fingertips along the line of his jaw just to see if it felt as smooth as it looked. Magenta stripes cut harshly across his high cheekbones and the navy blue, crescent moon on his forehead peeked through his soft, silver bangs. The faint, burgundy hue that highlighted his eyes was even more noticeable as he dozed lightly, rocked into slumber by the gentle ripples of the river. Never had she seen such a striking man in her life. In fact, she wanted to call him beautiful to the point of being feminine. But, hinting at his muscular neck and then beneath where his thick, silk clothes draped particularly close to his flesh was the body of someone who was distinctly male.

"You have stopped punting," he observed quietly, his fine mouth the only part of him that felt the need to move.

"Oh, I was--" the schoolgirl stalled, searching for an excuse as a blush warmed her cheeks. Silently, how she wished she could have willed her redness away with a single thought.

He snorted in reply, his tone clearly doubting, causing her cheeks to only darken in their rosiness. Wanting to object, she instantly realized it wouldn't be in her best interest to argue with an intelligent youkai lord who obviously knew more than he was letting on. Instead she went back to her punting, if one could call it that. A rice bowl and chopsticks weren't exactly designed for such a thing.

Sesshoumaru's dark gray eyelashes opened slowly as the bowl resumed its course up the tranquil river. His honey eyes spied up at the woman who was busily working at her task, her eyes carefully avoiding any further glances in his direction. Mildly smirking, he wondered what aspect of his appearance had distracted her so. He knew that in the realm of humans he was a remarkably attractive man, but as daiyoukais went, he was barely above average. His deep, masculine voice and muscular frame denied him true beauty, but he found that he was quite content with that notion. In dealings with his own kind in the past, he had met a fair number of other lords who were so beautiful that even to this day he had no idea if they were male or female. He liked being noticeably a man beyond a few characteristics of his face.

Watching the schoolgirl punt, he followed her fluid movements as they found a rhythm while she rocked back and forth. Tanned and sinewy, her legs veered close to his face, nearly touching occasionally before she swayed away. Smirking again, he wondered if he should inform her of how well her indecent skirt betrayed her from where he sat, but then he decided against it. Their pace was unacceptably slow as it was and it would only deteriorate further if she was distressed over her appearance. Besides, he was rather enjoying himself.

Quietly, he sniffed the air as she drew near and then scowled. Like the taste of water, plainness was all that greeted his nose. Closing his eyes once more, he suddenly wanted to shut out the world that allowed him to see, but deprived him of his most treasured sense, his sense of smell. It was worse than losing an arm. Without scent, his surroundings felt more than simply flat, but barren as well. The trees weren't trees without the sweet scent of sap. The river wasn't a river without the sour scent of algae. Even the human that swayed before him didn't seem real without the saltiness of her sweat and tang of her body odor.

"Sesshoumaru?" Kagome asked, stirring the youkai lord out of his shallow lament. Her voice wavered slightly in the air, mildly piquing his curiosity.

"Hn?"

"What was your father like?" 

Sesshoumaru's eyes flew open and he cast a hard stare at her. Facing away from him, she was still avoiding face, but for different reasons now.

"Why do you ask?" he asked flatly.

"The old man."

"Old man?"

"Yeah. The one back at the one room house we appeared in."

"What about him?"

"The way he looked at me," Kagome replied, dipping the chopstick into the water, "He seemed so proud, so happy with me. I never really knew my father, so I was wondering what your father was like."

"Hn," Sesshoumaru grunted, closing his eyes yet again, "Youkai parents and human parents are not the same."

"But, they're still parents, right?"

"In name, perhaps."

"So, what was your father like?" 

The uncomfortable silence returned, once more making its nest between the two travelers. After a long moment, Kagome settled back into her rhythm, resigning her thoughts to her inner counsel.

The daiyoukai sighed softly.

"He was a great youkai lord," he elaborated, "And he died before his time. What he did before his end is of no concern to me since his death was honorable and worthy of a warrior."

"That's all?"

"What more could there be?"

"I don't know? Maybe I was expecting--"

"Demons do not experience emotions like humans. As a miko, you should know this. Amongst youkai nobility, all that is important is the station."

"I guess. But as nobility don't you resemble humans more than the base youkai below you whose existence is more instinctual than anything?"

"Perhaps, but we are still full-blooded youkai, unlike my half-brother. If you are relying on him for your assumptions, then your misguided desire to find a sliver of humanity in a demon will bring you more than mild misfortune."

"I'm willing to take that chance," Kagome replied thoughtfully as she turned his answer over in her mind. It was true that most youkai were simple vicious creatures who acted only to serve their own means, but Shippou and Kirara weren't that way. Kouga wasn't that way.

He snorted.

"Look, I don't go around trusting every youkai in the hopes that my faith in their relative goodness will keep them from betraying me at some point. I don't trust you."

"A wise decision."

"So, do you think your father was proud of you?"

"Proud of me?" Sesshoumaru repeated, slightly amazed at the woman's tenacity.

"That was kind of what I wanted to know."

"Hmph," he grunted and resettled his body in the comfortable curve of the bowl, "A father's pride implies that his son would know what his father expected from him."

"What do you mean--"

Suddenly, the water churned beneath the bobbing bowl, tossing it violently about the rough waves. Spying up, the shiny, pewter snout of a fish appeared at the surface as it investigated the curious boat. Then with a jerking movement, it nudged the unstable craft heavily a few times. Desperately, Kagome dug her chopstick into the riverbed, hoping the sandy foundation would be sturdy enough to keep her balance. However, after the final blow of its mustached nose before it slipped below into the water, her efforts were thoroughly squelched. Losing her grip, she fell back and landed hard on a surprisingly soft demon.

Together they sat with Kagome neatly cradled on his lap, their eyes locked on each other. She stared at his amber irises that glittered like citrine with narrow, black slits that nearly severed them in half. Hidden in their depths, his intelligence and strength pooled. Marbled along the edges with tones of sepia, he stared at her dark irises that framed the perfect, black orbs of her pupils. Hidden in their depths, her curiosity and determination pooled.

Then it was over. The fish breached again, seeking the stubborn meal in the swaying bowl. In one single, fluid movement, Sesshoumaru rolled his body over, his cheek brushing Kagome's lips as he moved. Shifting with him, the schoolgirl quickly found herself uncomfortably pressed against the bottom of the bowl, fixed under his weight as he readied his fist. With a well-aimed blow, he struck the fish across the snout, sending the unfortunate animal skipping across the surface of the water before it sank for the last time.

Staring out over the river until he was satisfied that the problem had been adequately dealt with; he finally looked down at the stunned woman he had pinned beneath him. His long hair draping down, it framed her face as he studied her.

"Are you injured?" he asked when her shocked expression didn't waver.

"I-I'm fine," she finally stuttered, her cheeks nearly forgetting to flush.

"Good," the daiyoukai replied and then he carefully stood up to survey the river, "How necessary is rowing to the folktale?"

"I-I don't know."

"Fine."

The wind around him picking up, his hakama pants billowed as he leapt onto the rim of the bowl.

"What are you doing?"

"We will go by a faster route."

"The poem said to row."

"Is punting the same as rowing?"

"Well, no."

"If you choose to stay with this vile vessel, then do as you wish. I will not," he added with finality and then poised himself to step off.

"Wait!" Kagome called out, quickly standing up. She looked the daiyoukai over, her expression perplexed. The idea of her riding on Sesshoumaru's back briefly crossed her mind and she nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of the image it conjured. The poised, elegant demon undoubtedly didn't plan on her riding him around like a horse unlike the indifferent hanyou. "How do I...?"

"Hold still." 

A curl of his soft pelt scooped her up, winding gently around her frame. Relaxing in the embrace of the luxurious fur, she resisted her earlier urge to rub and play in the deep pile. Then with a casual step, they left the lacquered, rice bowl behind and flew through the air.

Cradled comfortably in his pelt, the schoolgirl suddenly realized how exhausting the day's events had been. The gentle breeze whipped at her face and hair as they traveled, further lulling her into unconsciousness. But before she slipped away, one thought slinked into her mind and she touched her lips, bringing an unintentional smile to them. His skin was smoother and softer than it looked.


	7. A Thimble of Rice

Chapter Seven: A Thimble of Rice

The biting wind nipped at Sesshoumaru's face as he flew over the water. His silver hair whipping behind him, he glided effortlessly on the swirling youki beneath his feet. In hues of blue and green, the hazy river below and the twisting branches above blended together in a streaking blur. It appeared almost surreal. As if the world was what was moving faster and he instead was the motionless observer. With a well-guarded smirk, he released a bit more youki. The air yielded instantly to his increasing speed and his glowing, white form shot forward.

With an occasional glance back at his slumbering and refreshingly quiet cargo, he scanned the area for any signs of the approaching capital. For several hours, only the river, which seemed more like a sea, greeted his golden eyes. His decision had been a wise one. The idea of rowing up such an endless expanse with a poorly-shaped rice bowl and thin chopsticks was a ridiculous notion at best. He was not at all surprised though. Who would think to do such a thing other than a human? Obviously it was meant to be a tale about courage, but in reality, the boy would be simply swept down river, his efforts wasted.

Slightly shifting his weight, he nimbly weaved through a clump of cattails. The tall wispy stalks with thick cylindrical spikes weren't the only plants slowly choking the river. Between the water lilies and lotus, the already gentle currents were stilled almost completely. Sesshoumaru frowned as he swiftly climbed higher to avoid any further tangles with the intertwining leaves. It was becoming more and more apparent that with the tame water, it was entirely possible to travel the distance in the bowl. It was only a matter of determination and time. He sighed softly, silently hoping that the story could be completed without the inane necessity of rowing, especially when flight worked just as well.

The glaring radiance of the sun poured down on the tiny travelers as the trees abruptly broke into an open valley. Square-shaped rice paddies littered the landscape with their deep viridian colors. The earthen banks of the river suddenly rose unnaturally high, broken in regular intervals with carefully dug trenches. The troughs lazily harvested the clean water, channeling them into the waiting fields.

The youkai lord warily eyed the dark silhouettes of various birds flying in the clear sky overhead. It was proven quite recently, that even though he may be invisible to their sharp vision, the woman was not. That particularly unlucky animal met its unlucky end at the hand of his poison whip, but its brethren may be more fortunate. Sesshoumaru looked back once again at the human nestled comfortably in his pelt. Happily ignorant of her peril, a bit of drool seeped from her parted lips, pooling on his fur. He briefly contemplated dropping her into the river for her impudence at soiling his pelt, but with a wave of the hand, dismissed the thought. How many times had Rin done the same? He never punished her for it, so to do it to this foolish woman would be pointless. If he Sesshoumaru found one thing to be truly disgraceful, it was pettiness.

"Tch," the tai youkai said under his breath, thinking of the gap-toothed ward he indulged too frequently, "That girl is making me soft."

Short dilapidated docks soon replaced the shallow aqueducts and the rice paddies blended into quaint clustered towns. They bustled with activity both on land and on water as the youkai lord found himself navigating now around huge lumbering wooden boats, steered by eager fisherman inspecting their catches. Swallowing up the air with ever increasing speed, he passed by without much difficulty save for a waywardly thrown net he easily dove through.

Peeking over the distant tree line, the first signs of the capital appeared as a towering series of temple and castle rooftops. Adorned in red and black clay tiles, they sloped gently, curling at the corners. Clumped around the stately buildings formed a sea of smaller structures. Varied in their size and shape, the marketplaces and homes swarmed with people selling their wares, their shouts easily heard by the tai youkai's sensitive ears as he neared.

Slowing down as he entered the city's port, Sesshoumaru alighted on a sturdy, if not well used dock and unceremoniously deposited the school girl onto a worn-smooth wooden plank.

"We have arrived," he spoke loudly and with a subtle measure of annoyance.

"Really?" Kagome yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Seated casually on her knees, she stretched back lazily. That was quite possibly the best nap she had ever had and she pouted that it was already over. "I suppose we should get going."

The youkai lord simply nodded, shaking his pelt until he was satisfied that all of the remnants of the woman's stay in his fur were thoroughly disposed of. Curling it once more around his shoulder, he quickly glanced around his person, searching for anything errant. Satisfied with the neatness, he began the long walk down the dock towards the burgeoning city.

Kagome watched him quietly, somewhat marveling at his fastidiousness. It was hard not to compare him to his less immaculate younger brother. Inuyasha could go all day with a ramen noodle stuck to his cheek and she knew half the time that the hanyou was aware of it being there. Sometimes, if there was a break in the evening, she'd do her best to groom him by the rich glow of fire pit. The amber light highlighted his white locks so well that she could easily pick out the darker twigs and leaves that he collected throughout a day of leaping through trees and bushes. His thick mane though, always seemed to be a tangled knotted mess and after a few pulled hairs, he'd usually storm off, cursing her for being too rough on him. Of course it was an excuse. He'd gladly take a burning hole through the stomach than have someone brush his hair. It meant a lot that he even let her do as much as she did.

Kagome's chest tightened at the unexpected pang of longing. The fact that it was for the place that usually caused her homesickness to begin with wasn't lost on her. Traveling with everyone in the Sengoku Jidai was what made the unending search for the Shikon shards worth it. Their warmth and mirth at her presence made her feel like she actually belonged hundreds of years in the past. She missed Sango's soft melodic singing and Miroku's occasional whispered limerick in her ear. She missed Shippo's tiny, soft padded feet perched happily on her shoulder and finally the rough, caustic curses from Inuyasha when he missed the darting game he flushed for their evening meal.

She looked up at the tall departing form of the youkai lord and wondered if he, Jaken and Rin enjoyed the same closeness that seemed to overflow in her group. If they did or not, she doubted he would say, leaving her only to imagine their dynamic. She pursed her lips into a frown. His two followers both referred to him as "Lord" and that didn't really ooze tenderness and love in her opinion. It was with that thought that Kagome felt her curiosity pique.

"Sesshoumaru?" she called out loudly, as she climbed over the coils of thick rope that littered the way between her and the tai youkai.

"Yes?"

"Are you really a lord?" she asked, her voice wavering with a bit of trepidation. It was a perfectly reasonable question, but that didn't mean he would interpret it that way. She could tell he was quite annoyed at her for asking about his father earlier, but then again everything she said seemed to irritate him.

Arching an eyebrow, Sesshoumaru suspiciously eyed the woman. Her insistence at referring to him without his title needled him every time she spoke his name. Was it out of malice or ignorance that she persisted with the insult? "You know that I am youkai nobility, why would my lordship be questionable?"

"I thought your followers called you lord, just because you seem narcissistic enough to demand that," Kagome replied with a hesitant laugh. The color drained from her face as the corners of the tai youkai's mouth turned upwards slightly in a soft, but rich chuckle. She didn't know why, but it seemed almost unnatural to see the demon react in such an amused way, especially when she hadn't intended to be funny.

"I am the Lord of the Western Lands," he said after a moment, "Only an insecure fool would insist on being called by an honorific that was not truly his."

"Oh," she said tapping her lip in thought, "So am I supposed to refer to you as Sesshoumaru-sama?"

"You may refer to me however you like; only now you may not plead ignorance when you insult me. Do you call a human lord simply by their name?"

"No."

"Youkai lords are no different in that respect. If it seems simpler, think of it as acknowledging the importance of the lordship, not necessarily the importance of the one who retains the title."

"That seems a little too humble an explanation for you."

"There is merit in what you say. It was what my father told me before he died, when it was decided that I would take over his territory. I have yet to tailor the definition to suit my own tastes." Kagome smiled at his remark, strangely happy that despite the new revelations, the demon was still as arrogant as she thought he was. She was quickly jostled from her contentment by his next remark. "In this same vein, do you wish for me to refer to you as miko?"

"Uh, well," the school girl stuttered, "No one really calls me that."

"Why do you allow them to disrespect your position?" Sesshoumaru said, quirking an eyebrow at her discomfort.

"I don't know. I just don't think of myself as a miko. I'm just a high school girl from the future who has purifying powers. Miko doesn't really cover all of that and it's not really part of my identity like it is for priestesses in this time anyway."

"Hn."

The two travelers returned to their usual silence as they made their way down the broad dock. Their careful steps avoiding the gaps between the planks that promised a less than pleasant fall into the deep water below. The heavy footfalls of the hustling merchants and fisherman didn't help as the loose planks shook hard, nearly vibrating the school girl off balance into the perilous cracks.

Finally reaching the end of the dock, Sesshoumaru bounded easily to the top of a crate of freshly caught fish and surveyed the best route to the castle. With a slight nod of satisfaction, he leapt down as easily as he had risen, landing next to Kagome, his step softer than a whisper.

"We will search for a cart delivering goods to the castle," he stated firmly in case the woman decided to object to his logic. Without waiting for her approving nod, he strolled out onto the hard packed dirt of the sprawling marketplace. His ears strained for any mention of the castle amongst the incessant blathering of the merchants as they peddled their goods and argued over prices and favors. The idea of melting them all into a puddle of acidic slurry for their trivial banality briefly passed through the tai youkai's mind as he tried to filter the possibly informative discussions from the idle chitchat. Humans were such pointless creatures sometimes, wasting their limited breaths on shallow exchanges and deceitful practices. What was the point of monetary wealth when your life was a mere heartbeat in length compared to most youkai?

Kagome clambered to keep up with the focused youkai lord. He moved so quickly, a silvery blur covering meters in a matter of seconds. Soon he was nothing more than a white speck and then he disappeared all together, completely out of her line of sight. The school girl broke out into a run in the direction she last saw him, not so quietly cursing him under her breath for being just as inconsiderate as his rude half-brother tended to be.

A set of thundering pillars with toes suddenly halted her pursuit and the shadow of an approaching giant foot loomed over her head. As it came crushing down, she cleverly dove between the two thick wooden bars of the descending geta sandal. A thick cloud of dust swirled in its wake, choking her breath and she stood up to brush off the dirt she had landed in.

Satisfied, she looked up from patting her short green skirt into the doe brown eyes of a small boy. She let out a short scream of surprise at the sudden appearance of the child's puzzled face.

"Hello there, little...err, big boy," Kagome said after a while, not sure what else to say to the child whose rapt attention she held. A grin spread across his smeary face at the thin sound of her voice and without warning he scooped the school girl up in his short grubby fingers. "Whoa, what are you doing? Put me down!"

The little boy stumbled off in delight with his new toy, jostling her around in his iron grip. In the brief lulls of peace as the child paused to figure out his direction, Kagome managed to part her tangled mop of ebony hair to see where she was. Nothing looked familiar and then all too quickly she was jolted forward once more.

"Mama!" the boy screamed in delight, his voice ringing in the school girl's ears, "Look what I found, Mama!"

"Hush child, you're hurting my ears," a firm maternal voice commanded.

"But, it's a yousei, Mama!" the boy yelled plaintively at his mother's reprimand.

"A yousei? What are you talking about child?"

"Look!" His stubby fingers parted slightly revealing his cherished prize.

"That's not a fairy, child," the woman said with a gasp at the dizzy and slightly smooshed form of the school girl, "That's just a... very small boy. Give him here my son." The boy looked up at his mother, his lower lip quivering in a permanent pout as he considered unleashing the waterworks. "Now child!"

"Yes, Mama," he said dejectedly, gently dropping the girl into his mother's open palm.

"Are you all right, young man?" the woman asked tenderly, holding Kagome up to her eye level.

"I will be," the school girl replied, rubbing her sore neck and blinking away the spinning world around her.

"You must get that a lot, little one. Being so tiny, children must carry you off quite often."

"I'm sure it won't be the last time," Kagome replied with a smile, hoping to relax the worry etched into the woman's broad face. "Thank you for freeing me."

"Please, I only wish he hadn't done it to begin with. It's just so difficult to look after him and watch our belongings at the same time. What is your name?"

"Um," the school girl said, taking a moment to decide what would be the best response. "My name is Issunboshi." Her vision clearing, she looked around unsteadily from the high vantage point of the kneeling woman's upraised hand. The boy had taken her far from the port, which lay far away along the distant horizon of low buildings and tents. The woman herself was seated against a long wall on a small woven rug, surrounded by various bundles and boxes. Further down were more people, sitting listlessly amongst their possessions, waving down anyone who ventured close enough.

Kagome looked back into the soft expression of the woman, suddenly noticing her hollowed out cheeks and pale skin. Her brittle hair was bundled back in a loose bun and her soiled clothing hung off her slender frame. "What happened to you?"

"Ah," the woman replied with a slight smile of recognition at Kagome's startled tone, "It is an old story I don't wish to laden on you."

"Please."

"All right," she said with a sigh, when it became clear she wasn't going to win this fight against the tiny visitor. "Several months ago, my family lived on a rice paddy not far from Kyoto. It was hard, but rewarding work and we did well for ourselves. The gods sought to reward our trust in them with our last harvest, the biggest we've ever managed." The woman looked wistfully into the sky, her dark eyes beginning to water. "My husband, when he was returning from the market after selling our rice was attacked by a group of bandits. They killed him and took his money. Without him, we were unable to get the land ready for sowing for the next year and I had to sell it to provide food for myself and my son. Now we have nothing and must humble ourselves in hopes that those who can spare some food or money will be sympathetic to our plight."

"Has everyone else here suffered from a similar fate?"

"Unfortunately, yes. The royalty does not see the bandits as their problem as long as the merchants are able to fill their storehouses with rice from other farms elsewhere in Japan."

"Here," Kagome said gently with a smile, holding out a huge cup shaped pot secured with a lid, a gift given to her by the elderly couple. "It's not much, but you and your son need this more than I."

"What is it?" the woman said, holding the strange container between her thumb and forefinger in her other hand.

"It's just some rice. Again, not much, but hopefully it will help."

"But, what will you eat, little one?"

"I'll manage. It doesn't take much to fill my belly, but I would be sad if your little boy didn't have enough to fill his." Tears streamed down the tanned face of the woman as she placed the treasured package into a fold in her kimono.

"There you are," a deep baritone voice called up to the school girl.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?" Kagome exclaimed, wiping the tears away that now streaked her face too. The youkai lord peered up at the flesh platform, the girl stood upon, inwardly surprised by her use of his honorific and then doubly so at the wetness coating her cheeks.

"What is wrong, miko?"

"Nothing, nothing," she said quickly, desperately using her sleeve to remove any more cause for him to question her. Turning on her heel, she faced the woman one more time. "Good mother, I, Issunboshi will find a way to help you and everyone else here who has suffered at the hands of the bandits and the heartless attitude of this country's nobility."

"Wait, little one. You needn't do such a thing. You've given more than anyone like yourself ever should."

"And somehow," Kagome replied, her smile never quite fading, "To me, it's still not enough."

Softly setting her hand down to the floor, the woman watched the delicate school girl step off her palm and stroll off into the crowded street, chattering seemingly to herself.

"What a strange young man, but maybe," she said with a pause and a slight smile, "I will put my faith into him."


	8. Of Apples and Melons

Chapter Eight: Of Apples and Melons

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" Kagome called out, hurrying after the tai youkai and his unnaturally quick stroll. Running at least looked fast, but how he covered so much ground with a stride that appeared to be little more than a casual walk was still a mystery to her. "We have to help—"

The youkai lord looked back over his shoulder, the icy glare of his golden eye dissolving her words before they left her mouth. After a moment of awkward silence, he returned his gaze once more to the chaotic marketplace that sprawled before them. His pace never wavered as they crossed through the rutted earth of the busy city center. As Kagome struggled to keep from being trampled by rushing messengers, haggling customers and laded wagons pulled by horses and humans alike, he passed through without so much as a misstep. The school girl pouted, diving away from the shod hooves of a passing fish cart. Whether he is four inches tall or fifty feet tall, he's always a lord.

"We have arrived," he spoke, stopping in front of a massive wagon, loaded with fruit and wooden crates of dubious contents, "This vessel will take us to the castle."

Kagome peered up at the dirt-caked wheels and massive, red panels encasing the cargo, her brow making a fine furrow on her face. From where she stood, she couldn't even see the top let alone determine a way to climb up to it. It was more mountain than produce cart.

"I will aid you," Sesshoumaru said impassively, sensing her consternation, "There is no easy path for a human of your abilities to ascend."

"Thank you," she replied, unsure if she had been insulted or not, "How did you know that this cart—"

A warm hand snaked around her waist, ending her question with a sharp squeak. Before she could further protest, he swiftly picked her up off the ground, the fine points of his claws pressed against the delicate skin of her belly and his thumb at her back. Watching her feet dangling beneath her, the disconcerting notion of him tossing her up the side of the wagon flitted across her mind. "W-wait, don't throw me. Fragile human here."

An indignant snort was his reply and the tai youkai raised her further into the air. Then with a smooth movement of his striped wrist, he flipped her over, letting her land roughly on his shoulder. The school girl breathed a ragged sigh of relief. Despite the pain of his spiked metal armor digging into her side, she could take comfort in the fact that he hadn't launched her to the top like a spear.

"Hey, what do you think—" Kagome blurted out in a blushing protest as the warm clawed hand returned, gently slipping down the back of her squirming thigh.

"Be still," Sesshoumaru commanded, his nails pricking her skin slightly as he gripped her legs firmly. Stepping back to gauge the best route, he looked up, studying the high sides of the huge wagon. Then within the blink of his amber eyes, he vanished, sprinting up the steep curve of the wheel.

Glinting silver and white swirled in Kagome's vision, as the tai youkai's fine strands of silky hair bathed her downward hanging face. Reaching the summit of the wooden wheel, Sesshoumaru leapt onto the vertical panel of the cart, scaling it quicker than gravity could claim him. The school girl felt her innards lurch into her throat at his speed and her buried face driven deep into the soft fabric and hardened muscle of his back. Desperately, she opened her mouth, struggling as her breath was robbed from her lungs.

With a single elegant leap, they crested the smooth gate of the wagon, landing lightly onto a neatly stacked pile of melons. His breaths steady, as if he had exerted no more energy than it took to raise his arm, the youkai lord stood still, surveying the sea of fruit he was adrift in. Satisfied that there were no surprises lurking amongst the oranges and apples, he let the frazzled school girl down off of his shoulder.

"That-was-fast," she said between gasps, her trembling hands on her shaking knees as she bent over to try and steady herself. And she thought riding with Inuyasha was like being on a rollercoaster. A satisfied grunt escaped his throat to accompany the subtle smirk that adorned his face. Then with a turn on his heel, the tai youkai leapt onto the highest stacked melon and settled down onto its hard, glossy surface. His legs gracefully crossed in front of him and his hand tucked into the sleeve of his haori, he sat motionless, patiently waiting for his chauffeur. Only his observant golden eyes and the fluttering of his bangs in the gentle breeze betrayed any movement. Kagome silently wondered if he expected an artist to suddenly show up and carve his image into a slab of marble. Although, being portrayed perched atop a fruit might not be his ideal way of being immortalized.

'Sesshoumaru-sama, god of melons,' Kagome thought as she desperately suppressed the giggle trying to escape her lips. His critical eye at her contorted expression didn't help her any either.

The lurching motion of the produce cart as it began to move distracted the school girl from her thoughts and saved her from further embarrassment. Leading the shaggy, bay pony harnessed to the wagon, walked an old, hunched man, clothed in worn, gray robes and a broad cone-shaped hat. The color of his wrinkled skin matched his clothing and he revealed his sunken face as he reached back to affectionately pat the nose of his loyal beast. Kagome's lips frowned. A man his age ought to be resting at home, surrounded by doting grandchildren, not toiling away in the potholed streets of the capital.

"Sesshoumaru-sama, we have to help these people," Kagome said, fixing her jaw, "We can't let them suffer like this anymore."

"We will do no such thing," he replied impassively, maintaining his poised posture.

"How can you say that? Look at them. They have nothing. They've been stripped of everything by roving bandits and an uncaring emperor."

"That means nothing."

"You're a ruler. Are you saying that this sort of behavior is acceptable? Is this how you treat your subjects? Do you let bandits roam your lands and rob your people?"

"You forget yourself, miko," the tai youkai spoke in a measured tone, his glare piercing. Kagome gulped her breath at his withering expression. "And you have forgotten where you are. Tell this Sesshoumaru why you gave your only food to that old woman?"

"B-because she and her son were starving," she stuttered, searching for her voice as she held onto her resolve, "Because they had already lost so much, they deserved to get something back. They deserve so much more back."

"And what will you give that woman?" he replied, slipping his hand from his sleeve to point along a distant wall. Surrounded by her possessions sat the same thin woman, yelling at her boy to calm down and sit by her side.

"That could be the same woman from before."

"Ah, so she gathered all of her belongings and went to another wall with her whelp trailing behind in such a short amount of time? Amazing, I never knew weak, malnourished humans were so able."

"Look—"

"No, you look, miko," he spoke firmly, his tone brooking no argument, "Tell me what you would do for that woman? Or perhaps that one?" His clawed hand gestured to a woman hobbling across the street and then to another stealing a handful of rice while her son distracted the merchant.

"I-I don't know," Kagome muttered. They were all the same woman, echoed over and over. It was like the endless forest in the Kintaro legend. Repeating trees then and repeating people now.

"You have already given your food. What next? Your clothing? Your arm? Your heart? Your life?"

"I only wanted to help," Kagome spoke softly, looking down at her fumbling hands.

"Those women, these humans are meant to suffer. To give reason for the existence of the bandits told in the story and in the poem. You cannot save those who are created to live in pain."

"It doesn't matter to me," the school girl declared loudly, her voice suddenly seething and choked as she looked up into his cool, citrine eyes, her own glossy with impending tears, "I still want to save them. Real or not, is it wrong to care? Is it wrong to help them anyway?"

"Compassion is not a flaw," he replied after a space of time, his tone almost imperceptibly softer, "Reckless compassion is. If you give so much that you sacrifice your own well-being, you help no one. A thimble of rice will not feed that woman or her child, but it would have fed you. Now three people will starve instead of two."

"I know," Kagome said quietly, gulping the moisture building in her throat, "But if that one little bit of rice made a difference then it was worth it. Maybe if we had gone to a market and found some more rice, it would have helped more."

"We?" Sesshoumaru spoke, his voice hard once more, "Again you use that word. Your techniques for forcing others into helping in your mission will not aid you here. I will not be manipulated like my pathetic half-brother."

"That's not what I meant."

"Isn't it?" the youkai lord said coolly, "Perhaps you don't realize what you do."

"I don't force people to do anything," Kagome spoke adamantly, "I ask them to help or they choose to help, because it's the right thing to do."

"And you decide what is right?"

"No, I just—" she stuttered, holding her hand up to her forehead, trying to gather her thoughts, "It's not this complicated. When someone needs help, you help them. It's what you do. Umm, umm... Rin. You helped her, right? You saved her with your healing sword. You apparently decided that even though her suffering was over with her death that she deserved a second chance at life."

"Hn," Sesshoumaru quietly snorted, thinking of the human girl that trailed behind him wherever he traveled, "Rin was not revived out of reckless compassion, miko. She was not revived, because it was the right thing to do."

"Then why did you do it?"

"I was curious," he said after a thoughtful pause, "Regardless of my reasons, when I returned her life; she was placed in my debt. She became my responsibility. To give aid to someone is to take responsibility for their well-being. What would you have done if you had saved her life? She is no youkai like that kitsune whelp who travels with you. She is fragile and weak like any other human child."

"I don't know. I wouldn't have abandoned her."

"But you would have. You would have left her with a village elder, at a shrine or at a human orphanage. If that place decided to sell her or abuse her, then you would have given her a far crueler fate than death. How many human children have you saved and then left to that uncertain destiny in your travels here?"

"Why do you make this so much more complicated than it is?" Kagome said softly after a defeated sigh, looking out into the passing city and at the countless clones muddling through their illusion of life.

"Because it is, miko."

Silence lingered in the air, louder than the waning noise of the distant marketplace. Slowly the cart made its way up the earthen street, flanked by the increasingly elaborate buildings. The elegant temples seen from the river were even more impressive up close. Huge pagodas reached into the sky, their square towers richly decorated in dark wood carvings of flowers and leaping koi fish. Through the thick walls, resounded the harmonious, exotic chants of the monks, honoring their love and loyalty to their glorious gods.

The wagon ambled to a shuffling halt before a massive iron gate centered in a crimson wall that stretched endlessly in both directions. Two guards dressed in elaborate, samurai armor stepped out, conversing with the old man.

"It would be wise for you to hide, miko," Sesshoumaru spoke nonchalantly, still seated peacefully on his melon. Kagome mumbled under her breath at how nice it must be to be invisible as she slipped down through the narrow spaces within a basket of apples.

After a genial exchange and a few laughs, the heavy gate whined open and the cart returned to its slow progression towards the castle. Leaning near the wagon as it passed, a guard gingerly lifted an apple from its brethren, brushing it softly against the side of his maroon pant leg, one of the few places his black armor didn't cover.

"That man should rethink his future as a guard," the tai youkai said, his tone more unimpressed than usual, "And you should rethink your ability to hide." Pressed against the hard red fruit at her back, Kagome let out her breath, her heart thumping in her throat. Sitting up slowly, her eyes still wide with fear, she stared in disbelief at the youkai lord. Of all the fruit the giant man had to take, he took the one she was hiding under.

"How was I supposed to know he was going to take that apple?"

"I am not human and you are. You should be able to understand their behavior and anticipate their actions. Or hide deeper within the basket."

"You know, I would like to see, just once, things not work out to your benefit," Kagome fumed slightly under her breath as she clambered out of the apple-shaped hole.

"Hn."

The hardened dirt road swiftly transformed into carved slate and the shod hooves of the pony clacked on its smooth surface. The dark narrow tunnel leading from the gate opened up into a bright, vast courtyard. Along the distant walls, red flags displaying the white floral crest of the emperor billowed in the wind.

A broad set of steps rose up to meet the massive castle celebrating the wealth and prosperity of the current ruler's reign. Majestically built from dark wood and black stone, the stately building rose further into the air, dwarfing the pagodas and temples outside its walls. At its summit, it was accented by a rich crimson tiled roof. Before them and flanked on each side of the steps, sat a pair of foreboding iron lions, their maws agape, inviting trespassers to try their luck.

"We are leaving here," Sesshoumaru said with finality, rising from his warm seat. As he spoke, the cart began to angle away from the stairs, heading toward the rear of the building to off load its cargo.

"Right now?"

"You wish to speak with the emperor?"

"Yeah."

"Then we shall do so through the front door."


	9. Brothers

Chapter Nine: Brothers

"Hold still."

"Look, isn't there some other way we can do this?"

"No."

"Fine, just watch that hand of yours."

"Hn."

Sesshoumaru leaned down toward the already blushing school girl, gently slipping his hand under her white, sailor blouse and wrapping his warm fingers around the curve of her waist. Raising her into the air, he easily placed her once more on her designated spot hung over his shoulder. The soft pads of his fingers slowly trailed down the back of her thighs, leaving a growing field of tiny goose-bumps in its wake.

"What did I say about minding your hand?" Kagome blurted out with a heavy, shaking breath and a futile kicking of her heels in protest, as her legs above the knees were otherwise occupied.

"Be still, miko," the tai youkai spoke with a quiet sigh, the points of his claws warning her skin with less subtlety. Then with a quick bound, he landed onto the rim of the frayed, wooden gate of the wagon, curls of peeling, red paint around his boots. Patiently, he looked down at the spinning wheels and the disappearing stone bricks of the ground beneath them.

"How far down is—" the school girl began to ask, trying to bend back to look over his shoulder, but before she could, a sudden, familiar lurching gripped her stomach and she watched the smooth, silvery strands of the youkai lord's hair reach up into the heavens. He sprang off the cart with terrifying speed, defying gravity at its own game and Kagome felt a strange weightlessness, as her torso drifted up from the demon's back. Desperately, she grasped at what of his back she could reach and clawed her way down to the obi of his waist, clinging to the thick, yellow silk as she watched the shadowed red and brown blur of the produce cart roll away.

A moment before the fast approaching ground could strike; the tai youkai slowed his propelled descent to a light feather fall and Kagome's face slammed into the wall of hardened leather armor and muscle that was his lower back. Gently he drifted down to the smooth, slate tiles, his golden eyes cautiously surveying the broad courtyard and finally settling on the massive staircase leading to the castle.

"You don't carry people very often, do you?" the school girl remarked with an edge as she released one hand from his belt to rub her battered chin and nose, "Is it safe? Can I get down now?"

"No, you will stay," he replied firmly, tightening his grip on her thighs lest she had other ideas, "And be quiet." Aside from his own beat and the somewhat rapid thumping of the human woman's, he could make out no other heartbeats in the surrounding area. That left only potential insect threats, since their bodies emitted very little in the way of distinct sounds. Sesshoumaru furrowed his brow. His hearing was superb, but nothing compared to how skilled he was with scent. Had he really been relying so heavily on a single sense? Perhaps this aggravating condition was a blessing in disguise.

"Don't just order me to be quiet," Kagome grumbled, propping her elbow against his shoulder blade and her palm under her chin. Her other hand wandered over to his hair, as she absently ran her fingers through a few of the strands while she begrudgingly waited for him to finish whatever he was doing.

"Miko, stop."

"Hmm?"

"I cannot concentrate when you are occupying yourself by altering my appearance."

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" the school girl half-yelled, surprised by the anger harbored in her own voice, "Is it distracting like when you rub your hand down my legs?"

"It is not distracting," he replied slowly, his voice rising in irritation, "It is inhibiting."

"How? What am I doing now that doesn't meet with your approval, huh? I don't even know why I care about what you approve of anyway. Humans are just ants to you, nuisances that you crush under your heel should you decide to step on them. The only reason why I'm not a pile of ash right now is because the scroll won't let you incinerate me. So, tell me why I should even listen to you, Sesshoumaru-sama?"

And with that the distant humdrum of the busy city outside the castle walls filled the silence pooling between the two travelers. Kagome gulped at the hard lump of unease sitting in her throat, growing with each empty, passing moment and feeling the slight pinch of claws tightening and lessening against the back of her thighs.

"I cannot scent for enemies," the tai youkai replied softly, his tone low and quiet.

"What does that mean?" she replied, the anger rising in her voice again as she twisted around to face him as best she could. He turned his head slightly, staring into her furious, but confused, sepia eyes with a single cool, amber eye. Then her face softened, her expression brightening in realization and a slight smile curled on her back-lit face. Lightly, she rolled her body up onto his arching, metal, shoulder armor, hoping that it was sturdier than it looked. He slightly loosened his grip on her legs, curious as to what exactly she was planning to do. Biting her lower lip softly in nervousness, her hesitant hand reached toward his face. Remaining still, he watched her closely, as she then tenderly scooped the thick hair she had dislodged earlier and was now laying heavily over his elfin ear. Delicately, she curled the strands back behind his ear once more, silently marveling at how easily it fell back into place. "Is that better?"

"It is sufficient," was all that he said, returning his gaze to the castle steps. She rolled back onto his shoulder again, careful not to touch his hair as she propped herself up against his shoulder blade once more.

'Am I always this oblivious?' Kagome thought to herself, watching the hypnotic flowing of the flags on the far walls of the courtyard, 'Of course, he was trying to listen for enemies, since he can't smell. I should have remembered and I should have been paying attention. Instead, I made it so he couldn't do that either. He can't fix his hair and keep me from falling off his shoulder at the same time. If he was Inuyasha, he would have just yelled at me and told me that he couldn't smell and needed to listen instead. If he was Inuyasha, he would have carried me on his back, instead of like a sack of rice over his shoulder. If he was Inuyasha, he never would have made me question my ideals and called me a fool. He never would have been so brutally honest. But, he's not Inuyasha, is he?'

"Hold on, miko," the youkai lord said in a still quiet, but firm voice, once he was satisfied with the lack of danger around the steps. Beneath her prone body, she felt his muscles tense and then in a silver flash, they were streaking across the even, slate of the courtyard. The air whipped by, tangling their waving locks of hair in dark, gray blur. The foreboding mountain of brick quickly approached and without so much as a misstep, the demon glided up onto the first raised step of the stairs. With long, loping strides, he sprang up the following steps, leaving the school girl amazed at his smooth motion. Again she found herself comparing him to his younger brother. Inuyasha always needed a short running start between leaps to build up his next jump. Sometimes the hanyou even tried to jump excessively high, as if he was trying to prove himself with each strained leap, fighting some unseen battle within himself only to tumble back to earth.

'Sesshoumaru though,' she thought, looking back over her shoulder at the youkai, 'Just had that strength.' It lay quietly beneath his cool demeanor, waiting patiently to be used. Pure, raw power funneled into each muscle and his confidence burning with each easy movement.

And with each gliding, effortless leap over the steep, stone steps, a thought grew in the back of Kagome's mind, sinking her stomach with an aching dread. He was so powerful and there's no enemy around here, giant human or otherwise that could cause him to even sweat, let alone harm him. His lengthy act of checking for threats must have been for her and only her.

"Were you searching for enemies, because you didn't want to take the chance that I'd get attacked?" Kagome asked sheepishly, already knowing she was right. The youkai lord didn't reply, merely pausing slightly in his step, the only clue that he had even heard her. She had hoped he would have insulted her for being a weak human instead. Told her what a burden she was, what a burden all lesser beings were. If only he was just a little bit like the rude hanyou. But, he wasn't and in its place there was only silence and the cold, honest dagger of truth whose quiet blade bore right into her.

The seemingly endless steps passed by without incident and without words. At their crest, Sesshoumaru paused once more, investigating the surroundings near the oddly, open iron door leading into the castle. He could hear the conversations of servants within, none of whom sounded particularly hostile, just mindlessly droning on in their dull, pointless chitchat. Sure of the lack of danger, he bent over just enough to allow the morose school girl off of her warm spot on his shoulder, before stepping through the threshold of the enormous doorway.

Broad planks of honey colored, polished wood spread out before their feet, the planes sanded so finely and molded so expertly together, that there were no gaps for the travelers to be wary of. Panels of painstakingly carved, darker wood lined the walls, broken by ornate murals ranging from simple sakura trees to elaborate panoramas of Mount Fuji. Dimly glowing, intricate rice paper oil lamps burned on the walls lighting their way.

"I've never been to a place so... luxurious," Kagome said under her breath, mostly to herself. It was true. Even the building they had first appeared in after the scroll trapped them wasn't as beautiful and as extravagant as what little they had seen of this castle. She could only imagine what lay in the court or the throne room. In fact for the first time, she was actually looking forward to what the scroll would reveal next.

"Hn."

"Wh-what?" she stuttered, barely hiding her pleasure that he was speaking once again, well in his own way. It was one thing to travel through five more stories with a tall, irritable youkai lord, but if he wouldn't even talk to her anymore... Kagome shuddered slightly.

"It is only a house," Sesshoumaru replied with mild disdain, eyeing her shudder curiously, before dismissing it as yet another strange peculiarity adding to the multitude she frequently expressed.

"I think this is a little more than just a house."

"Hn," he grunted, folding his arm against his chest in a way that seemed strangely natural. "The shack of those elderly humans and the castle of the human emperor are all the same to youkai."

"So," she, said, furrowing her brow, "Youkai nobility don't build elaborate homes to show off their wealth?"

"Some do," he replied with a shrug, "But only those who seek to impress humans. It is occasionally a necessary evil for diplomatic reasons."

"Well," Kagome said, pursing her lips in thought, "Do you even have a house, then?"

"Of course," he said, quirking a brow ever so slightly. "It is simply one sufficient enough to house my belongings and what servants that I have."

"Then, how do youkai nobility demonstrate their power, if not through stuff?"

"Hn," the youkai lord snorted. The mere idea of being represented by only material success was such a foreign and equally insulting concept. "Personal power and land in which to protect is what classifies a youkai lord."

"Personal power?"

"Yes. My physical strength, my mental prowess and my control over my youkai blood are what define my status. Through that power, I patrol and guard my lands."

"I thought youkai weren't concerned with material wealth. Isn't that what land is?"

"I do not own the land, miko. I simply look after it, by maintaining the balance between nature and humanity," he explained at length, somewhat amazed that anyone with a sliver of miko power would be so ignorant of demon life. "Youkai are born from nature. They are the spirits of animals, plants and elements who gained sentience through a strong desire. Most are weak-willed creatures with simple goals like in their previous existence, while some attain new, stranger needs like drinking lamp oil for instance." A faint flash of disgust graced both of their faces at the idea. "The youkai," he went on after a brief moment, "Who are stronger and more intelligent become the rulers who govern over those who are weaker. Their lineages become the nobility."

"How old is your family line?"

"Thousands of years old. My great grand-sire came into power many, many years ago. Still we are merely new blood compared to some families."

"Great grand-sire," Kagome repeated and then arched a brow, "Exactly how old are you?"

"I am five hundred years old," he replied after a moment, mildly curious of what someone who had lived for so brief a time would think of such an age. Rin had asked him once right after he had taken her in under his protection. When he told her, she was rather unimpressed and followed her previous question with "How much is five hundred?". That was about when Jaken was assigned to his new education duties.

The school girl blinked a few times, the demon's words slowly seeping through her mind. A number like five hundred almost didn't seem real to her, he might as well have said a thousand or five thousand at that. Sure Inuyasha was well over fifty, but that was because he was sealed to a tree, wasn't it?

"Youkai of such high bloodlines do not age like humans. I may live for thousands of years, should the unlikely event of my falling in battle not occur." A subtle smile rose on his lips. "Should I be alive in your future, I may even outlive you there as well."

"Will Inuyasha live for such a long time?"

"Hanyous are unpredictable," the tai youkai replied after a pause, studying the woman, intrigued by her obvious concern over his half-brother. "Their human blood taints their purity, unraveling their control over their spiritual strength. Those who are able to cope with their youkai blood may live for hundreds of years, while others who cannot may live for only twenty.

"Will he—"

"That foolish half-blood is only in danger from his own stupidity. Our father has taken care of the rest."

"I see," Kagome said with a sigh of relief.

"Hn."

The hallway opened up into a huge, open-air room. In a break in the flooring at its center was a beautifully groomed, rock garden. The bright, afternoon light shone down through the opening in the ceiling, highlighting the tiny, white pebbles that rippled around larger stones strewn throughout the perfectly, square box. The school girl gingerly crossed the busy room filled with idle servants and guards whittling away at the day with what activities they could find. The youkai lord strolled behind her, barely acknowledging the thundering steps that swarmed near him.

"Well, we're at the house of glory. What are we supposed to do next, Sesshoumaru-sama?"

"Tiny voice echoing pride," the tai youkai repeated the relevant part of the poem nonchalantly.

"Am I supposed to just yell at them?" Kagome asked with her voice slightly overwhelmed.

"Perhaps. It is your story."

"All right," the school girl said, taking several deep breaths to build up her courage. If they saw her and decided to squash her, then they'd squash her. There was nothing she could do about that. She took one last deep breath, holding it in as she found the loudest voice she could muster, "HEY YOU!"


	10. Whispers

Chapter Ten: Whispers

"Did you just hear something, Ginta?" a soldier clad in black armor said with a frown, pausing in his idle march near another guard leaning against a wall.

"Hmm... I don't think so," Ginta replied boredly, picking at his teeth with a dirty fingernail. "What did it sound like?"

"Like a voice."

"A voice? What? Like my voice?"

"Well, did you say something?"

"I did just now."

"Then no. I heard another voice."

"Hn," Ginta grunted, raising his brows. "What did it say?"

"Hey you."

"Tch," Ginta snorted and resettled himself against the wall. "I don't hear anything. If you're trying to trick me, Hakkaku, then you're not as sly as you think you are."

"I'm not trying to trick you," Hakkaku replied and followed with a sneer, "There's no fun in picking on idiots. Now listen."

"Oh, insult me and then expect me to believe you," Ginta said with a huff and closed his eyes. "When the emperor pays me to guard against imaginary voices, then I'll help you."

"Look, I know what I heard and— what the hell is that?" Hakkaku said, his voice nearly breaking into a shriek. Scurrying across the floor, a strange creature was steadily moving towards him. He stumbled back several feet, his back thudding against the wall. As if tethered, it quickly shifted directions, honing in on the befuddled soldier. "Is that a mouse?"

"You're scared of a mouse," Ginta laughed, finally finding a good reason to stand up. "Just step on it then."

"It just told me not to."

"Mice can't talk, idiot."

"Well, it just did," Hakkaku replied, his voice cracking faintly and he pressed as close to the wall as he could as the tiny form fearlessly stopped in front of his sandaled feet. "And it just said that if I want to keep my toes, then I better keep my feet where they are."

"I'll do it," Ginta sighed and stepped forward. "You don't have to make up stupid stories—" Before he could finish his thought, let alone sentence, a yelp escaped his lips as a sharp sting tore through his foot. Grasping it, he looked down in anger and confusion at a small bubble of blood beading on his right, big toe.

"I told you," Hakkaku said coolly as his fear a moment earlier transformed into a sadistic satisfaction at his comrade's pain. "That's what you get for doubting me."

Completing his ruse with a condescending sigh in Ginta's fleeing and cursing direction; he knelt down to the odd, little thing that just made his day. Upon closer inspection, he found that it was not a mouse that stood proudly before him, but a small boy, his weapon, a slim needle casually resting on his shoulder.

"If you're not the smallest boy I've ever seen," Hakkaku whispered in amazement, his finger reaching to nudge the little person, as if to prove it really was what it seemed to be. With a quick movement, the needle came down on his forefinger with a vicious smack.

"I am Issunboshi and I will not tolerate being prodded. Now take me to the emperor," the boy demanded with a thin, but hard voice, raising the needle once more in case the point needed further explanation.

"I can't just take you to the emperor," Hakkaku mumbled, sucking on his sore finger. "Even if he allows you to meet him, you have to arrange to be heard during his royal court time. Not to mention, I don't even know who you are."

"Perhaps I'm not being clear," Issunboshi said firmly, pointing the needle squarely at the man's nose. "I am a gift of the sun goddess Amaterasu and I will not be made to wait. I wish to serve the lord for the glory of this empire, so take me to him. Now." The soldier stared at the boy quizzically, silently mulling over the words. After a moment, Hakkaku nodded slowly and lowered his hand in front of the tiny person, beckoning him to climb on. A goddess' likely wrath beat the emperor's likely irritation any day.

"Hey, Sesshoumaru-sama," Issunboshi yelled triumphantly towards the top of the thick plate of Hakkaku's shoulder armor, "It worked." The soldier looked over to find nothing more than the black, hardened leather and further confusion.

"Who are you talking—"

"Do you ever say anything except for hn?" the boy muttered to himself with a grump and stepped onto the soldier's open palm, ignoring the giant man's bewilderment. "Good job, miko. I couldn't have done it without killing a few guards first, so I'm glad you're here." Puffing his cheeks in annoyance, the tiny figure then settled down on the fleshy dip in the center of the upturned hand. "Let's go."

'A gift from a goddess,' Hakkaku thought, rubbing his temples with his free hand as he stood up. 'This was going to be a long day.'

OOOOOOOOOO

The soldier and his tiny cargo made their way down the long ornate corridors of the castle in relative silence. A victim of the man's deep, lumbering strides, Kagome had since scooted up to the bend of his middle finger, to get a good grip on the leather band that secured his forearm guard to the back of his hand. The perpetual beauty and elegance of the castle was gradually losing its luster and the school girl's curious eyes were now gravitating towards the aloof tai youkai still perched upon the guard's shoulder plate.

The demon lord was quiet as usual, even during the extensive conversation or interrogation on Kagome's part, as she grilled the poor guard on what was being done about the bandits which were plaguing the countryside. Pleading ignorance, the soldier offered few answers for the persistent school girl and usually trailed off in a low, questioning grumble, often regarding what he had done to so thoroughly upset the gods in recent memory. She had expected the youkai to reprimand her for involving herself once again with the afflicted farmers of the story, but he remained poised and motionless, his golden eyes closed to her meddling.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?" Kagome said softly, hoping to be out of earshot of the guard, "What are you doing?" The tai youkai's eyes opened slowly, the slits of his pupils trained on the sepia eyes of the smiling woman below him. Her insistent need for conversation wherever they traveled was wearing on him and he silently wondered how his half-brother coped with it. Perhaps the filth of his human blood was more useful than it appeared to be.

"Listening," he replied blandly, before closing his eyes again, hoping a simple answer would suffice this time, though he didn't lend much hope that way.

"Listening?" she repeated, crooking her brow. "Did you hear anything?"

"I've heard many things," he said following a soft sigh of defeat.

"Obviously," she said with a frown, "But is there anything in particular that you're listening for or maybe that you heard and are trying to hone in on? Or maybe—"

"No. I am simply listening."

"Why?"

"I am training."

"Training?" the school girl said quizzically, "Huh, I thought dogs had excellent hearing as well as a good sense of smell." She reached up to her mouth vainly, realizing her words too late. Was it insulting to call an inu demon lord a dog to his face? Sesshoumaru's eyes blinked open and he stared down at her impassively. Her rapid heart rate after her last comment caught his interest, prying him from his focus.

"This Sesshoumaru has superb hearing," he replied firmly. "There is no need to doubt it."

"I-I believe it," she stuttered as she fumbled with her hands, "I just thought I might have insulted you by calling you... a dog."

"This Sesshoumaru is a dog."

"I know. I just didn't want to offend—" Kagome began to say as she looked up at his mildly perplexed expression before quickly changing the subject. She might as well not tempt fate for once. "So, you're practicing listening?"

"Training and yes."

"If it's already superb, then why train?"

"My hearing is without flaw," Sesshoumaru replied with a subtle smile, finally snaring the intent of the question, "It is my ability to listen that is insufficient."

"What? There's a difference?"

"I am able to hear and concentrate on many sounds, miko. It is knowing what they mean that is deficient."

"Why wouldn't you? I mean, you've been alive for such a long time," Kagome said, her voice wavering slightly. Why fight fate? Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed on the woman, their citrine depths attempting to discern her aim. He grunted inaudibly. No matter her meaning, the question was legitimate and he had already admitted to the flaw.

"Scent is much more exact than hearing," he replied vacantly, concealing his discomfort easily beneath the guise of indifference. "For instance, with a simple sniff of the air, I would know everything about you and more than such things as your species and your location. The odors are instinctual, their meanings embedded in my youkai blood."

"So, you never needed to listen. Scent was enough."

"Precisely," the tai youkai said with a nod toward the school girl, "This place, however seeks to challenge my abilities." Kagome stared in quiet wonder at the youkai lord's pleased countenance, a smile hinting at his face. Was he actually enjoying being handicapped? If this was how he looked at life, no wonder he didn't seem to be bitter towards Inuyasha for cutting off his arm.

The soldier, oblivious to the low conversation between the two travelers, stopped before a large wooden door, engraved with the image of the goddess, Amaterasu, her light radiating on the country below, blessing it with her glowing affection. He reached his left hand forward and grasped the handle, sliding the heavy door with a bit of effort.

Through the doorway and into the warm sunlight, he stepped into a great garden. The rays glinted on the polished wood panels and delicate railings of the raised, winding path he traveled down, broken only by the dappled shade of the overhanging trees. The fresh air filled Kagome's lungs as she watched in soothing delight the passing spread of color and green, momentarily forgetting her anxiety from the day's events.

She looked up briefly at the tai youkai, who was still seated quietly upon the soldier's shoulder, his eyes closed while he concentrated. She smiled at his serene expression, noting that while his moods were difficult to discern, he definitely appeared more relaxed once they left the dark castle for the openness of the garden. Youkai were of nature, after all.

"My lord," the soldier said loudly, startling the school girl from her musings. Forgetting the fragile guest sitting on his palm, the guard quickly knelt down to the ground and bowed low, his hands cupped down in front of him. "Forgive me for interrupting."

Standing in long robes of richly embroidered silk, a statuesque man snipped with his shears, releasing a resounding click one last time before looking up at the prostrate soldier on the ground before him.

"What is it that merits your intrusion on my valuable time...?"

"Hakkaku, sire."

"Of course."

"I have brought a gift from the goddess Amaterasu who seeks your counsel."

"A gift from the goddess?" the emperor replied, his brow quirking. "Rise and show me this most unusual reward."

"Yes, sire," the soldier said with a breath of relief, not knowing he had been holding it. His ease was soon clouded with fear as he realized that in his haste to bow, where he had placed his hands. Gulping loudly, he overturned his hand, praying silently that he would not find a flattened smear that was once a tiny boy on his palm. To his delight, he found the seethingly, angry gift pressed against the underside of his hand, desperately holding onto the leather band around his middle finger. Despite the speed in which he had knelt, the little person had swiftly managed to wedge himself into the crook between his fingers and thumb. Softly, the guard whispered his apology, hoping that whatever anger the gods may have for him that it hadn't increased too terribly. "My lord, may I present to you, Issunboshi."

Kagome stood up proudly on the now upturned hand of the guard, expecting to hear the wonderment that the emperor of the story had instantly held for the tiny boy seeking to serve him. Another snip of the scissors was all that greeted her ears and she opened her eyes to find the lord once again trimming the carefully cultivated bonsai tree in front of him.

"Great emperor," she began, hoping that addressing him directly would spur him to recognize her as someone great. In fact, it was that adoration that she had been absently thinking about since her discussion with the guard. If the lord held her in the high regard that the story of her childhood told of, perhaps she could convince him to aid the unfortunate farmers of the region by dealing with the bandits. "My name is Issunboshi and I wish to serve this great empire for the glory of my family and the goddess Amaterasu who gave me life."

"Indeed, Little Sun," he replied placidly with another precise snip. He knelt down slowly, his eyes never wavering from the gently, twisting branches and smooth curves of the delicate foliage of the small tree before him. "I shall place my daughter under your protection. Hakkaku, take our guests to the hime, so they may serve the empire."

"Yes, sire."

"Wait," Kagome yelled out as the soldier stood up from his kneeling position, "I wished to discuss the state of the farmers in the empire."

"The state of the farmers is not your concern, Little Sun," he spoke in the same absent tone, his focus still remaining on the bonsai.

"No, but it is of your concern," she spoke adamantly, barely keeping her brimming anger in check. "Your people are suffering, because you will not protect them."

"And you will? It is not your place and it's best that you remember that."

"I cannot simply ignore their fate like you. While you wear your silk and trim your trees, they wear rags and starve. What of your responsibility to your people? Amaterasu will not bless a land which neglects its people so."

"Ha," the emperor laughed, his smiling eyes looking into the furious ones of the tiny, school girl, "The goddess must truly be angry with me for she sends a gift to show me of her pleasure. You have spoken one truthful piece of wisdom though, Little Sun. My people are my responsibility, not yours. However, as you debate with me, your charge goes without your protection. If my daughter is harmed while you prattle here, who shall be blamed for that?"

"I-I," Kagome stuttered before quieting all together. Was he telling her that she was being irresponsible? How dare he? A princess safely secured in this fortress of a home surrounded by soldiers was not the same as defenseless farmers being assaulted by thieves and murderers. And another thing, why couldn't he say her name right?

"If there is nothing else Little Sun, it is time for you to leave. The princess waits," the emperor said nonchalantly, picking up the tree gently and returning it to its place on the shelf behind him.

"My name isn't Little Sun. It's Issunboshi," the school girl said with a measure of venom at her apparent defeat in convincing him to act against the bandits.

"I heard you correctly the first time," he said as he poured over the other trees on the shelf, holding his finger up to his lip as he contemplated which, if any needed his attention.

"Then why do you mispronounce it? My name is not Little Sun."

"Ah, but it is. You are Little Sun. Just as the other is Little Moon, who if I'm not mistaken, must be near as well," he replied, selecting another tree with a smile. He so did love sculpting his bonsai.

"Little Moon?" Kagome said quietly, looking back towards the shoulder plate of the guard to find the youkai lord no longer meditating, but staring hard at the emperor, who had since begun to happily trim his next project. She then turned back to the human lord. He knew something about the scroll, something about how they were trapped. "My lord," Kagome said, addressing the emperor once more, "Why are we trapped and who created this scroll? What does the sun and the moon have to do with it? What—"

"You ask many questions, Little Sun, but I hold few answers for you," the emperor said, his happy eyes once again staring into hers. "I will tell you one thing that may aid in your quest to understand. The sun and the moon are not alone as their skies and their blood is shared with one other."

"What does that mean?" the school girl blurted out, her brow crooking in confusion.

"Nothing and everything," the emperor said with a smile, before nodding in dismissal to the soldier, who had long since stopped listening to the seemingly pointless and mildly frustrating conversation. As the guard pivoted to return the way he had came, the lord whispered to himself as he chuckled softly. "Another human is trapped. His bloodline fascinates me more every time."


	11. The Weight of Words

Chapter Eleven: The Weight of Words

"How could he say that?" Kagome said vehemently as the travelers once more made their way through the long corridors of the castle, escorted gently by the soldier. "I'm irresponsible when he allows so many to suffer at his idle hands. With one, single order, he could save so many people, but instead he sits in his garden and trims trees."

His legs crossed gracefully in front of him, Sesshoumaru sat quietly on the shoulder armor of the guard, his eyes closed and ears tuning out the flurry of words pouring from the human woman below him. Gradually her voice faded into the background, like the rumbling of waves breaking on the beach. The smooth curves of his face relaxed as he centered his mind and focused once more on his training. The rushing of blood steadily flowing through the giant man's body, spurred forth by the loud thumping of his heart greeted the tai youkai's ears as he sought the rhythms of life around him. He soon found himself anticipating each sound with a growing ease, their meanings ingraining themselves in his mind and into his instincts.

His pleasure at his progress began to ebb as his thoughts drifted him from his focus, rippling his peaceful countenance. The final, whispered words of the emperor bore into his concentration, their possible significance acting like chisels, fracturing his resolve until he opened his golden eyes in frustration.

'Another human is trapped. His bloodline fascinates me more every time,' Sesshoumaru thought, repeating the final remark of the human lord in his mind. Whether or not the emperor believed anyone present could hear those hushed words only enticed the demon's curiosity further. It was more than the passing wonder he held occasionally regarding the purpose of the scroll or why his father had kept such a powerful treasure and passed it down to him without so much as a word of caution. Such hadn't concerned him too greatly. He was a powerful tai youkai and none of the threats the illusionary world had presented could rival his strength or take his life.

Sesshoumaru's cool gaze gravitated down to the wild gesturing and rambling of the woman beneath him. Another human is trapped. What did humans have to do with an heirloom belonging to a tai youkai? Sesshoumaru's brow furrowed slightly, his mind working behind his even expression. Had he been thinking about this wrong from the beginning? There was more than the single scroll left to him. Two scrolls, as there had been two fangs. One scroll bequeathed to him by his father and one bequeathed to Inuyasha by the hanyou's mother. If he or his half-brother had read one of the scrolls while the other possessed the second one, then he would have been trapped with Inuyasha and not the miko. Was that the intent?

'If I had been told that...,' the tai youkai thought as mild disgust formed on his face, mixing with the anger of being manipulated yet again by his family. The revulsion quickly passed and a faint smile hinted in its place. It was somewhat pleasing that this little, life lesson of his father's had been upset by the bumbling actions of the foolish woman. A human was snared instead of the hanyou, but from the cryptic words of the emperor, she was not the only one of her kind to stumble into the trap.

"Sesshoumaru-sama," a voice called out, drawing the tai youkai from his contemplations. "Sesshoumaru-sama, are you listening to me?"

"No," he replied finally, his distant eyes focusing on the worried frown of the woman, watching it gradually fade into one of annoyance.

"I thought you were supposed to be getting better at listening," she spoke with an edge, crossing her arms and letting out an indignant huff.

"Being able to ignore unnecessary noise is an essential skill in listening, miko," the tai youkai said mildly, now watching her newly formed frown of annoyance change once more to that of shock. "And if you have nothing of relevant importance to say then leave me to my training."

"I-I want to talk about what the emperor said," she stuttered before finding her voice. She wasn't unnecessary noise, was she? Maybe she wasn't a strong fighter, but at least she was smart. If anything, she knew the stories, the kanji and perhaps one other thing the wise, old demon hadn't thought of yet.

"This Sesshoumaru has no interest in discussing matters regarding the rice farmers further."

"I know that," Kagome said softly, rubbing her hands together nervously, "I was angry before and just wanted to let it out. The emperor was just so stubborn and so cruel." The tai youkai arched a brow at her reply, but continued to eye her in quiet expectation. "What I really wanted to talk about was what he said after that."

"The sun and the moon are not alone as their skies and their blood are shared with one other," he said, repeating the emperor's words.

"Yeah, those words," she said with a knowing smile. "I think I know what they mean."

"Hn," he grunted with a nod, "Proceed."

"I started to think about what's in the sky aside from the sun and the moon. About things like stars, birds, rainbows and clouds, but when I thought about what any of that had to do with blood, it didn't make any sense. But apart from the emperor, the sun and the moon have been mentioned before."

"In the poem."

"Exactly," Kagome said with a grin. "Hidden from the sky. Brave through storm sun and moon. Seeking the before. I guess maybe it's because I grew up in a shrine, but Amaterasu, the goddess of the sun and Tsukuyomi, the god of the moon were what I thought of when I remembered the lines again. I also thought about the rooms in the building we showed up in when we were trapped. I awoke in the room of the sun and you the same in the room of the moon. Although, I am in no way presuming you were unconscious or vulnerable or anything," she added quickly.

"Hn."

"Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi are not the only ones who have representations in the sky. There's one more."

"Susanou," Sesshoumaru replied after a pensive moment, furrowing his brow slightly at his own words.

"Yes," the school girl said softly, the warmth of her pride at solving the emperor's clue dispersing at the name. "The evil God of Storms."

"If he is indeed responsible for this realm," the tai youkai said at length, "Then the power of this scroll is greater than this Sesshoumaru thought."

"Susanou hated Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi for banishing him from heaven. Even when he was allowed to return, there's no guarantee that he didn't still harbor anger towards his sister and his brother."

"Indeed," the youkai lord spoke, his tone more serious than usual, "But we do not know the purpose of this scroll or its intent in naming us as the sun and moon. We are not gods and we can only act on what we know." Silence gripped the castle hallway save for the heavy, echoing footfalls of the oblivious soldier. Kagome looked up at the demon, who had since receded into his usual meditative state.

"I'm not unnecessary noise," she spoke, her voice low, but firm. The tai youkai's amber eyes blinked open at her whispered words and he stared down at her inquisitively. The woman looked away from his puzzled gaze, furthering his intrigue. Her arms were crossed again, her dull nails digging into her flesh and her lips bent into a pout. "I know I'm not powerful and I'm not wise. That sometimes I'm naïve and that I don't pay attention to what's going on around me, but I'm not unnecessary," she said with finality and looked up into his eyes, "I am important."

Sesshoumaru continued to stare at the school girl, their eyes locked as he sorted through her words. After a few moments, he closed his eyes once more and Kagome gulped at the hard lump of frustration sitting in her throat.

"Miko, how much do you know of this Sesshoumaru?" he said after a space of time, carefully pouring over his words before they left his mouth.

"I-I don't know," she said, startled by his question. "That you're the five hundred year old lord of the Western Lands. Your father left you that territory and despite what he did prior to his end, you respected his warrior's death. In your land, you have a modest fortress and that you saved Rin with the Tenseiga more out of curiosity than compassion."

"I have told you more than I have told any other human except for the occasional, innocent query from my ward."

"Why?"

"I have asked myself the same," Sesshoumaru replied, his tone reflective. "The only answer I have found is that you asked."

"What does that mean?" Kagome said, furrowing her brow in confusion.

"There are many who stand up to me, miko. Of those, there are a rare number who respect my station," he said, his voice firm, "Among those even fewer are intelligent enough to earn my respect in return. Think of this the next time you draw this Sesshoumaru into another conversation, as most would never receive the honor of my response."

The school girl remained speechless, staring up at the motionless tai youkai settling back into his quiet training. Did he just compliment her, by complimenting himself? A smile grew on her face. Indirect or not, she'd take it.

"We have arrived at the hime's quarters, Issunboshi," the soldier spoke softly as he came to a stop in front of a large, wooden door with a delicate, sakura pattern engraved on its dark surface. "I must announce myself to the princess and should she answer the door, I must bow like before."

"I shall be grateful if I may sit upon your shoulder then, Hakkaku," Kagome replied, grimacing slightly at the memory of nearly being crushed by the guard's quick and enthusiastic bow before the emperor.

"My thoughts exactly, sir." With a swift, but gentle motion, the soldier placed the tiny school girl upon his shoulder. His clumsy hand nearly struck the youkai lord whose only movement was the fluttering of his bangs in the sudden flow of air. Kagome stepped off the rough, calloused palm and stood shakily next to the tai youkai.

"Thank you," the school girl said with a bow towards the face of the giant man, "You have guided me well. The goddess will shine fortune down upon you and your family." The guard smiled beneath his long mustache, bowing slightly in return as to not throw his honorable guest from the safety of his shoulder. Turning his body towards the door, he called out.

"Hime, your new protector has arrived to grant you his service," the guard yelled. Through the thick panels of wood, Kagome could hear the rustling of hurried movement and soft curses of a young woman. With a swift movement and a resounding thud, the door slid open, revealing a beautiful princess draped in fine, embroidered silk. Delicate, pink, sakura blooms graced the smooth fabric that trailed down to the floor. Dangling tortoiseshell hairpins bound her thick, ebony locks in gentle loops and highlighted her fair complexion and the mild surprise hinting on her elegant face.

The soldier blinked several times before he realized his place and fell to the ground in a low bow. His sudden movement caught the school girl off guard and she grasped onto the sturdy armor of the youkai lord to keep from losing her footing.

"Miko, it would be in your best interest to bow as well," Sesshoumaru said after the guard had settled into his position, slightly annoyed at the constant interruptions marring his concentration. Letting go of the polished metal armor of the demon, Kagome knelt down, bowing to the princess as well.

"Are you my protector?" the hime asked the soldier, confused more by his words than by his actions.

"No, no, hime," he replied hurriedly and moved his hand to gesture to his shoulder plate. "Your protector kneels there." She leaned in close, examining the hardened leather armor, wondering what pain would be appropriate for a guard who sought to deceive her with such a silly trick.

"There is a little boy," she exclaimed, holding her hands up to her mouth in delight and wonder. The school girl looked up from her position into the almond eyes of the giant princess.

"I am Issunboshi, great hime," Kagome said, her voice beaming with pride, "And I was sent as a gift from the goddess Amaterasu to protect you."

"Rise then, little soldier," she replied with a smile, "And join me in my chambers." Daintily, she held out her soft hand in front of the school girl. Kagome stepped off the plate and onto the offered palm. Before she settled down, she looked up to find the tai youkai already seated upon the narrow shoulder of the princess.

"I blink and I miss the only movement you make in hours," she said under her breath.

Stepping back into her room, oblivious to the sound of the door sliding shut behind her and the departing steps of the relieved soldier, the hime held the tiny person up to her face again, marveling at his size. Kagome shifted uncomfortably under the steady stare, her mind desperately seeking something to break the princess' awkward attention.

"So, hime, where are all of your attendants," she said after a moment, noting the strange lack of handmaidens that normally accompanied princesses.

"They bored me with their constant fussing, so I dismissed them."

"Oh."

"I am so pleased though to have a protector, little Issunboshi", the princess said with a happy sigh. "Tell me of your adventures."

"My adventures?"

"Of course," the hime replied with a slight frown, "I want to know of your travels and how you came to be my personal guard."

"Well," Kagome said pensively, pressing her finger against her lips in thought. "I arrived in a blanket, the blessed son of my proud parents who honored Amaterasu. When I grew up, they gave me a needle and a rice bowl to travel up the river to the capital and to my destiny as your guard."

"You rowed up the river in a rice bowl?"

"Mostly," the school girl said with an uncomfortable laugh, glancing up at the meditating tai youkai, whose disinterest in the conversation couldn't be more obvious.

"What else? What did you do when you came to the city?"

"I-I," Kagome stuttered as she thought back, her mind pooling on the image of the destitute woman and her young son, begging for food. A smile hinted at her face as she came to a realization. Perhaps the emperor is unwilling to listen to her, but the princess might be able to persuade him, if she could persuade her first. "Hime, there is something that you should know about the state of the great nation which your father governs."


	12. Good Intentions

Chapter 12: Good Intentions

"Wait, Hime!"

"For what, Issun?" a gleeful, voice sang out from behind a folding, dressing screen. Through the thick paper on whose smooth panels, a flock of painted cranes waded, the vague silhouette of the princess shifted awkwardly as she fumbled with her newly chosen wardrobe. "Where does this piece go? Damn handmaidens. They're never around when they're needed," she grumbled, tossing the fabric aside.

"You don't understand," Kagome exclaimed, waving her hands in the air, "They're bandits. You know, thieves and murderers."

"I fail to see your point," the princess replied, peeking her head out from behind the screen to stare at the tiny figure standing on her vanity table with arms akimbo and whose mouth had since dropped open in astonishment. "I understand very well what bandits are. That's why we are going to speak with them."

"Why don't we speak with your father instead? At least he's not likely to run us through with a sword or in my case, a bamboo skewer."

"But you said my father wouldn't listen to you," the hime replied absently as she set to work once more on her dress, perusing each strap intently, as if willing it to make sense or at the very least to disappear so that it may no longer trouble her. "If he chooses to do nothing, even after your glorious speech, then what choice do we have?"

"We have a lot of choices," Kagome yelled in a wavering voice, her hands leaving her hips to entangle themselves in her hair in a fit of exasperation. "And definitely ones that don't involve telling a bunch of killers that they've made poor life choices."

"Ah, Issun," the princess giggled effervescently, "You're so funny."

"I'm not being funny. This is serious. What makes you think that they'll listen to you?"

"I'm the hime. Everyone listens to me."

"B-but—"

"We will go down to their quaint, little abode and order them to cease their deplorable activities. They will then stop and these pitiable farmers will sing their praises to us," she said with a happy sigh. "It's all really very simple."

"The real world doesn't work like it does in this castle," the school girl exclaimed once again, stomping her foot on the polished wood of the table. "They won't stop just because you order them to. More than likely, they're going to kidnap you and do unspeakable things to you, before they either ransom you or kill you. Outside these walls, it's no fairy tale... or maybe it is, but not in the way you think."

"That's why you're here, silly," the princess laughed, pausing in her eternal struggle with her garment. "If you're there and they decide to be less than civil, you'll dispatch their vile selves with all due expediency. You really are too funny."

"Do you not see how big, I am? A gang of murdering finches, I can do. Not a slew of six-foot, angry ex-samurai in need of serious attitude adjustment."

"Really, Issun. I think if you weren't so suited for battle, my father should have appointed you for court entertainment. Your humorous pleasantries know no end."

"I'm not being funny, dammit."

"Where does this attach to?" the hime mumbled, her ears deaf to the thin ravings of the boy, now pacing angrily on her table.

"Ha, if you can't get dressed, then we can't go. And I'm not going to help you," Kagome yelled triumphantly, crossing her arms proudly. If anything, that little notion bought her some time to figure out a plan to avoid the nasty mess she had gotten herself into. Really, who would have thought the princess would have wanted to go solve this personally? All she wanted was for her to go talk to her father and persuade him to send out his army to end the bandit problem, however he saw fit. She hunkered down, leaning against an elegant, porcelain bottle of perfume. Closing her eyes, she rubbed her temples soothingly, hoping to alleviate the budding headache forming behind her eyes. Why did things always end up this way?

"Is that where that goes?" the hime exclaimed suddenly, jerking the school girl from her brief reprieve. Kagome looked up at the motionless figure of the princess on the screen and then closed her eyes once more. Emptying her mind as best she could, she tried to think about how a certain youkai lord might meditate so that she could tune out the frustrating princess and her annoyingly bubbly voice.

"And that goes there?" the princess said with an airy gasp followed by a soft giggle.

"What are you doing?" the school girl called out, her confusion and curiosity knitting her brow.

"Ooh, be gentle with me, young man. Such boldness, if someone were to walk in and see your actions. I can only imagine what might become of you."

"What are you talking about, hime?"

"Your ministrations, of course," she said huskily, "But, hiding your form from me-ee- is particularly clever. Then, I can claim it was not you-ooh- and still not be lying. Preserving my-ahh- sensibilities while roaming through my clothing, you sly boy.

"B-but, I'm over here."

"All done? Pity," the hime pouted, looking over her dress approvingly, though she was seriously tempted to disrobe again, if only to be tickled by the tiny grip of hands and feet that a moment ago were so firmly touching her person.

"What the hell is going on?" But as the words left Kagome's mouth, her answer appeared as a small, silver figure alighted onto the top edge of the screen, walking casually with his ivory fur trailing behind. "You were dressing her?"

"I have removed garments of that sort many times," the tai youkai replied with a slight shrug, "Doing the opposite seemed a simple concept."

"Wh-what?"

Sesshoumaru stared at her for a moment, debating on whether or not to elaborate, but as he reached his decision, the school girl blushed hot in realization.

"No-no, I-I get th-that part," she sputtered, trying to drive out the illicit images of the youkai lord and activities that involved disrobing women that popped into her mind so freely. "Why were you helping her dress?"

"The story requires the hime to be present when we encounter the bandit. As she is obviously incompetent, I expedited the process."

"I know that," Kagome exclaimed, "But, the story also says one bandit, not a gang of them." Sesshoumaru shrugged again and gracefully leapt off the screen, landing softly on the table.

"Your actions have changed the story," he said nonchalantly, running his clawed hand through his hair to be sure of its orderliness after his foray in the thick silk of the princess' kimono.

"Uhh," Kagome groaned, feeling her headache surge, "I know. I shouldn't have meddled."

"You were warned. Such is the outcome of reckless compassion."

"And now I have to take responsibility?"

"No. You always have a choice. You may choose to let the hime meet with the bandits without your assistance."

"But, they'll kill her or maybe worse..."

"Perhaps, but know whatever her fate, it will be your fault."

"Uhh," she groaned again, cradling her head in her hands, "I'm so stupid."

"That goes without question."

"Thanks," the school girl replied with an edge and looked up at the princess busily rifling through her collection of sandals, tossing the unsuitable ones over her shoulder, scattering them across the room. "This isn't a fairy tale, this is a nightmare."

"There is a distinction?"

OOOOOOOOOO

The mid-afternoon sun shone brightly down on the slate courtyard, highlighting the stone bricks in shades of blue-gray. The delicate form of the princess appeared at the castle doorway, adorned in fine, pink silk whose hues faded to amber at the bottom edge of her dress. The warm tones accented the scene of a sun setting amongst elegant, entwining, sakura branches depicted upon its smooth folds. Holding her pale hand up to her brow, she surveyed the courtyard gleefully, a pearly grin gracing her lightly painted face.

"Can't we just go talk to your father?"

"No, Issun," she replied adamantly, her brow furrowing at the words. She turned her head to look at the tiny boy seated on her shoulder. "This is our adventure. The people will sing praises of our triumph. Not his."

Before Kagome could object further, the princess slipped forward and nimbly made her way down the steep steps. Smoothly, she descended the stairs and crossed the broad courtyard and into the dark tunnel leading to the gate. Flanking each side of the heavy, reinforced wooden door stood two guards, who despite their efforts could not hide their shock as the rather purposeful princess strode gracefully towards them.

"Open the gate, men," she demanded, holding her head higher than usual as she attempted to look down on them from her comparatively short stature.

"Y-you are not permitted to leave without an escort, my lady," one rather familiar guard stuttered, his voice low.

"My royal protector is present with me. Do not delay me further."

"Royal protector?"

"Issun, stand and make yourself seen, so we may proceed past these obviously ill-mannered oafs."

"Please don't allow her to pass," Kagome yelled in her thin voice as she stood up on the hime's narrow shoulder. "Where she wishes to go is far too dangerous for me to handle on my own."

"You?" the same guard remarked incredulously, his voice rising to a sharp pitch.

"Eh?" she said, her mouth quirking in confusion.

"Because of you, I was transferred to gate duty."

"Ginta?"

"So you remember my name, eh?" he said, crossing his arms as he stared down at the tiny boy and then back at the haughty expression of the princess. A devious smile curled on his face. "I think if she were to encounter a hoard of demons, she should not have to worry for a hair on her head."

"No, wait—"

"She has an escort, we must let her through."

"Yes, sir," the other guard replied, brushing his bewilderment aside as he stepped over to a wooden lever and wound the gear. The gate creaked open, revealing the sights and sounds of the city just ahead of them.

"Enjoy your excursion, my lady," he said still smiling as he bowed low.

"We shall," she replied and paused a moment in her step as she passed him, "Such courteousness. I will tell my father to restore your position.

"I am most honored by your consideration."

"As you should be."

The princess strode out confidently, leaving the castle behind her as she passed the various temples and government buildings. Kagome sat down in a huff, her hands cupping her chin in dissatisfaction. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Sesshoumaru who was like usual, meditating.

"I should have stabbed him through to the bone," she grumbled under her breath.

"Hn," the tai youkai replied, barely concealing his amusement behind a placid façade.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Where are these bandits you spoke of, Issun?"

"I don't know, my lady," Kagome replied wearily, her hand seeking her temples once more as her headache surged at the princess' voice. "This is the road that the woman spoke of when she told me what happened to her husband. They must be around here somewhere."

"I am not one to be left waiting," the hime huffed, her hand slipping into a fold of her kimono, retrieving a finely crafted, folded fan.

"Not the fan again," the school girl grumbled softly and gripped the silk beneath her and braced her legs against the princess' shoulder. The hime flicked the fan back and forth furiously, as she glanced up and down the road impatiently. The torrents of air buffeted against Kagome's body, each seemingly seeking to topple her off of her precarious perch. In fact, the first time the princess had deigned to cool herself had been quite successful to that end. The first wave knocked her completely off and she had only been saved by the soft, elaborate bow on the hime's back and the short fall onto the apples of the produce cart they had managed to hitch a ride on. This time, she would be less fortunate as she undoubtedly would fall to the hard ground below with an unceremonious splat.

"Bandits, I demand that you show yourselves!" the princess called out, tapping her foot as she fanned. A few moments passed emptily, filled sparingly with the chirping of birds flitting through the air.

"See, they're not here," Kagome yelled into the gusts. "Let's go back and tell your father of their insult to your station by not presenting themselves."

"Very well," the hime grumbled, placing her fan in its fold. "We shall return to the castle."

"Excellent decision, my lady."

"Well, well, what do we have here?" a rough voice cackled from the woods that bordered along the well-worn dirt road. Melting out of the shadow of the trees, a burly man in tarnished armor appeared, holding a rusting sword against his shoulder and stroking his bristled chin, as his dark eyes looked over the fair princess appreciatively.

"Yes."

"No."

"Hn."

"Where are the rest of you?" the hime demanded, raising her head as high as she could in her usual attempt to look intimidating. The smile faded from the bandit's smudged face, replaced with a frown and a quirked brow of confusion.

"The rest of us?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, I wish to speak with all of you. Your recent activities have been rather intolerable and I have come to order you to change your filthy ways."

"Filthy?"

"Yes. Killing, stealing, raping and apparently not bathing are reprehensible habits to occupy one's time. I will not permit them any longer."

"And you're going to order us to stop, little lady?" he swaggered, his face lighting up in a sort of deranged amusement.

"Of course, it's my duty as the hime."

"You're the hime?"

"Who else would I be, you wretched oaf?"

"Where is your guard, my lady?

"He is right here," she replied boldly, gesturing to the tiny figure sitting dejectedly upon her shoulder. "Issunboshi is a great warrior and lest you wish to feel the terror of his blade, I suggest you take me to your more than likely disgusting camp and allow me to meet with all of you."

The man strode forward, much to the revulsion of the princess and squinted at the speck of boy staring up at him. His chapped lips quirked at the sight and he stepped back overtaken by a sudden fit of laughter. Several minutes passed before his hoarse guffaws began to wane.

"That's-your-guard?" he wheezed, gripping his aching stomach.

"I'll have you know he's defeated hoards of demons in the past. Your like would not even break a sweat on his brow."

"Is that right?"

"Do not underestimate us, vile beast. Now take us to your camp."

"As you wish, my lady," he said politely, stifling another fit of laughter as he bowed low while raising an arm towards the woods. "This way."

"Thank you," she replied stepping onto the narrow path leading through the woods and flashed a smile at the frazzled figure sitting quietly on her shoulder. "As you see Issunboshi, a disobedient dog can be taught."

And Kagome's headache spiked once more.


	13. Filthy Ways

Chapter Thirteen: Filthy Ways

'It must be a dream. Right now, I'm asleep in my sleeping bag with Shippou cradled in my arms. At any moment I will wake up in our camp for the night. Next to me will be Sango, sleeping happily with Kirara. Miroku will be leaning against a tree not too far away with a little bit of drool seeping out of his mouth. And Inuyasha, he'll be reclining against another tree with his sword leaning against his shoulder. I'll scream myself awake from this nightmare at any moment and they'll all wake up with a start and rush over to comfort me. I'll tell them about the scroll and the poem. I'll tell them about the fairy tales. About the wrestling match with the mean rabbit and about rowing up a river in a rice bowl. About the rice farmers and the ridiculous princess who was stupidly involved in their plight. And about the tai youkai who carried me around over his shoulder and made me feel like a fool. They'll all laugh at the silliness and give me gentle embraces and kind words of reassurance. Maybe even tease me. Inuyasha will laugh the hardest and fantasize about how nice it would be if Sesshoumaru was palm sized. It will happen, at any moment now. Any moment.'

Kagome's eyes fluttered open, hoping for the dim, orange glow of embers of a dying campfire. For the soft, auburn hair of her adopted, kitsune son nestled against her chest. For the familiar shapes of her sleeping friends unknowingly waiting to make her feel better.

"Trees," she muttered, followed with a soft sigh of resignation.

"Wretched things that they are with their clawing branches. Fine silk is not meant for such abuse," the princess remarked, her voice scathing as she examined yet another tear gracing her once beautiful dress. "Do not worry Issun, I shall ask father to burn this forest for its impudence when I return."

"Hime, please..." the school girl began, looking up at the flustered profile of the princess before sighing again. "Never mind."

Behind her the low, deep chuckle of the bandit echoed in Kagome's ears, its sinister tone drowning out the soothing rustle of leaves in the interwoven branches of the forest above her. The hair stood on the back of her neck and she twisted around to stare at the man uneasily. He strode slowly behind the stumbling princess, his movements smooth, like a predator stalking its prey. His dark eyes slid over the hime's body watching every swaying motion greedily until he was caught by the school girl's angry glare. A grin of crooked, decaying teeth spread across his face as he returned her stare and then leisurely licked his cracked lips in anticipation for delights to come.

Kagome tore her eyes away and faced forward once more, focusing on the winding trail nearly hidden amongst the overgrown foliage surrounding them. A burble of acid rose in her throat and she gulped it down hard, quelling another urge to throw up. She wanted to retch. To expel all of the anxiety that bubbled and churned in her belly. She would feel a little better, but the princess undoubtedly would not be pleased with the new stain on her already ruined clothes, besides there was something about throwing up on royalty that seemed rather uncultured.

Taking several, deep breaths to waylay her stomach for a few moments, Kagome glanced around the princess' shoulders, searching for the familiar silver, black and red of the youkai lord. The empty, pink fabric of the kimono was all that greeted her and she watched her vision grow glossy and wet. He had disappeared sometime when they had first entered the shadowy and twisting forest. One minute he was meditating and the next he was gone. Patiently, she waited for him to return from wherever he had wandered off to. She waited for him to nimbly land next to her without a sound and to settle down gracefully on the hime's shoulder, continuing his ambiguous training with a shrug or his usual, indifferent grunt. She pinched her eyes shut, rubbing her palms roughly over them, angry at her tears, at her weakness and at her dependence.

"Issun, you have been so quiet, my great protector," the princess remarked, dragging the school girl away from her silent wallowing in doubt and fear, her bold voice eliciting another disturbing chuckle from their guide behind them.

"I just don't feel well. I'm sorry, hime."

"Do not trouble yourself," she replied, "You must be experiencing that pre-battle anxiety the soldiers speak of. If these revolting brutes are not willing to listen to reason, then you shall ease your nerves with their blood soon enough." Kagome stifled the sick laugh that pressed against her lips at the princess' words, gripping the thin needle she held firmly in her hand harder.

"Hime?"

"Yes, Issun," she answered jovially.

"If anything happens, I'm sorry. I-I only wanted to help. And—"

"Issun, I have faith in you. I have no reason to worry with you and your blade at my side. You have nothing to fear either. You are a great warrior."

"I-I'm not a great warrior," Kagome spoke shakily, staring up into the light, brown eyes of the smiling princess. "I'm just small and weak. I can't protect you. You-you need to run. Maybe I can stop this one, slow him down enough for you to escape back to the road. I-I could—"

"Hush," she interrupted gently, holding a single, manicured finger up to the school girl's face. "You are Issunboshi. The battle is yours. It always has been."

"We have arrived, my lady," the bandit spoke up suddenly, his gruff voice grating next to the soft, dulcet tone of the hime.

"Shall we, Issun?" the princess said with another smile and walked confidently with her head held high through the last of the thick underbrush into the small clearing. Several, heavy tents spread out before them, the marbling discolor of their material from years of use blending them unnaturally well with the mottling of the surrounding trees. They were snugly huddled together around smeary, black fire pits, whose flames burned bright under the lowering sun of the early evening. Sitting listlessly on stumps of long since fallen trees and empty, wooden crates were other bandits, patiently waiting for their pilfered meal to finish cooking. They chatted genially with each other, breaking out into deep, raucous laughter at a well-placed joke or an ill-placed blunder.

Their voices gradually quieted as they noticed the unusual company in silken finery approach. Glancing around wearily, some paused to inspect their pipes, wondering if their snuff was not the benign variety they had thought it was. A few stood up, stumbling back over the makeshift seats on which they had sat, mumbling about angry spirits of those they had wronged.

'It would have ended without a single word,' Kagome thought resentfully as she watched the panicky men slowly giving into their fear of supernatural retribution.

"Oi, men!" the bandit behind them called out, his tone hard and commanding. The school girl closed her eyes as she saw the men straighten up at the sound of the voice, mumbling in confusion to each other. There was no way out now. "Get back in your seats, you superstitious idiots. There's no such thing as divine vengeance, otherwise we'd have been dead a long time ago."

"But, boss, what the hell's that, then?" one called out from the safety of the trees bordering on the far end of the camp.

"It's our guest."

"Guest? That's a guest?" they murmured amongst themselves, looking doubtfully at the young woman in the elaborate kimono before them.

"This is the daughter of the emperor, our hime," the bandit leader went on with a grin, unable to hide his amusement. "She has come to speak to us about our, what was it?. Our filthy ways. My lady, if you will."

"Of course," she replied, after he bowed low before her, much to her pleasure. This was going better than she had planned. "Listen here, my countrymen," she began, looking them over individually, contented with their rapt, albeit puzzled attention, "It has come to my notice that you all have been committing revolting acts against the farmers and merchants who live with us in our great nation. I am here today to ask you to cease these abominable activities, although I'm finding it harder to blame you as I see the squalor that you live in."

"Squalor?" a man piped up, his brow crooked as he raised his arms wide, gesturing to the camp. "This place?"

"Yes, of course. What other place is this disgusting. To think you have pillaged so much and yet you still live in tents and sit in soot. Shame on all of you."

"Shame on us?"

"Is there not a spring or even a creek nearby for you to wash in? Never have I been in the presence of such filth. None of you have taken a bath for a month at least. Repulsive."

"There, there, my lady," the head bandit spoke up, as angry murmurs filtered through the men, "There are no good women around here to keep us from falling into such ruin. You know how we men are."

"So, it would seem. A good woman would never allow this contemptible level of disarray."

"Perhaps, if one would be so kind to accompany us, we would no longer be inclined to our filthy ways."

"That is a consideration," she remarked thoughtfully, noticing the nods of agreement passing through the gathering of men whilst ignoring their growing smiles and insidious chuckles.

"It also appears that we could change our ways rather immediately."

"Hime!" Kagome yelled in warning at the princess as the bandit leader closed the distance between them in two, quick strides, grasping her around the arms firmly, leaning close to her ear.

"I think with you, we could change our ways tonight," he whispered, nuzzling her hair, inhaling deeply.

"Release me, you beast!" she screamed, trying to twist out of his iron grasp.

"Oh my lady, I do love a good fight," he spoke huskily, releasing one arm to reach around and grasp her jaw roughly. He pulled her face back towards him and to his waiting lips. "Let's see if you're as sweet as you look."

"I am not for you to taste," she commanded as the wet spray of spit showered his face. He laughed heartily, joined by the malicious grins and laughter of the waiting men, each wondering when they might get the chance to taste her as well.

"A good start, my lady. But we are truly in disgusting shape and filth takes time to cleanse. Wash us clean as only a woman can."

"Release her!" a thin voice screamed at him, startling him from his second attempt to taste the full lips of the princess. He looked down to find a tiny boy leveling a needle at his face, his breaths heavy and rapid.

"I forgot," the bandit leader said, nearly laughing again, "Your protector will save you. He's slain hoards of demons and our like would be nothing but fodder at his blade."

"If you release her now, then I will allow you all to live," Kagome demanded, hiding her fear in her voice, but not her body as her arms and legs quaked under the bandit's stare.

"Little boy, you will have to slay me then."

"So, be it."

A searing pain jolted through the leader's eye and a howl of agony ripped from his lips. He let his untasted prize go as he groped feebly at the slick wetness slipping down his cheeks, oozing from his tightly, shut eye.

"That little bastard stabbed me in the eye," he half groaned and half yelled. "Grab her and find that little shit!" A sea of men who had already risen at their leader's unexpected cry of pain, descended on the princess, grabbing her arms and waist as she struck out vainly with her fists. Their grubby fingers slipped hungrily over her body, almost forgetting their purpose. Another man screamed, pulling back his offended thumb after his wandering hand grazed over the soft mounds of the hime's bosom. Nimbly, another man reached down, snatching the small figure hidden within the thick obi bound around the princess' torso.

"I've got him, boss," he yelled triumphantly, pinning the troublesome arms of the boy down in his closed fist, along with the vicious needle.

"Let me go!" Kagome screamed, before biting down on the calloused skin of her flesh prison. The man's grip tightened at the prick of her teeth and she gasped as the air was pressed from her chest. "Want me to crush - it, sir?"

"No, the leader yelled, swallowing at the groans aching in his throat and holding his hand soothingly against his eye. "Let it watch and when we're done with her, I'll kill it myself. Where are the rest of the men anyway?"

"They're out on a raid. They should be back any minute."

"Good. Bring the hime over here. I was going to be gentle before and take my time as a delicacy like this deserves, but it seems I'm not in the mood anymore."

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" Kagome cried out, tears streaking down her cheeks as she watched the screaming princess being dragged over to the waiting leader, her clothing ripping from the fumbling hands of the eager men. "Please, come back! I need your help!"

"Shut up, you little shit," the man holding her snarled, tightening his grip once again.

"P-lease," she coughed and wheezed, choking on the saltiness in her throat and the arresting of air from her lungs. "I-I'm sorry I got into this and I'm sorry I did this without thinking. I di-didn't want this to happen and I didn't think things would go this fa-far. I know that having pity for someone, ha-having compassion for their troubles doesn't mean I have to involve myself. So-sometimes things are just too big and it's not fair for me to p-put it on someone else's shoulders as well as mine. I only want to help, to-to make life better for those around me and n-now I understand the responsibility that comes with that. I wish I could do it over again. So-so please, just this once, save her for me." The frantic screams of the princess and cheers of the bandits filled the empty air as her hope faded away with every struggling breath.

"You will save her yourself, miko," a deep, baritone voice replied nonchalantly above her. Twisting her head around as far as she could, the blood shot gaze of the school girl settled on the white figure standing motionless upon the crest of her imprisoner's helm, staring down at her plainly. An airy laugh of relief shook her body as she watched the youkai lord casually unsheathe Tokijin from the obi at his waist. Then leaving only a slight stirring of air in his wake, he was gone. A silver flash glinted across the man's throat and a thin line of red grew across his tanned skin. Eyes wide with shock and pain, he felt at his neck, his hand wet with the steady flow of blood pouring from the near horizontal cut.

Landing next to her so suddenly that he seemed to have been conjured out of thin air, the tai youkai's blade swept down at the man's thumb, deftly carving it from its socket. The school girl watched in horrified fascination as the sword swiftly finished its grisly amputation, the flat of the blade grazing her shoulder with the final motion. Kagome quickly clambered out of the relaxing fist as the thumb fell cleanly away. Climbing onto the back of the hand, she felt an uneasy drop in her stomach as the man slowly stumbled, the life fleeing from his veins.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?" she called out plaintively at the demon who unhurriedly swung his sword with a down and out motion, freeing the blood from the shining blade.

The man fell jarringly down to his knees, nearly knocking the unsteady school girl from her perch. Casting about for a way to keep her balance, she watched in earnest as Sesshoumaru re-sheathed Tokijin in its place, inwardly wishing she had requested a saya to go with her needle.

"Are oou dun, vet?"

"Hn," he grunted with a slight shrug, his stance unwavering as the body beneath him swayed, threatening to fall one final time, "Shall we?"

"Jush tosh me ofer oour shoulver and ret's go!" she yelled through the needle anchored between her teeth as she gripped the dying man's arm guard desperately with both of her hands. A soft, rich chuckle was her answer.

"Very well."


	14. Spirit

Chapter Fourteen: Spirit

'At least this Sesshoumaru doesn't have to occupy his time meditating any longer. It had gotten rather dull at this point anyway,' the youkai lord thought impassively as he sprang over another wayward shard of firewood that had been kicked from its pit, specks of hot embers still glowing on its charred surface. The clay jars and bowls that still lay in his path were no less a hindrance as he glided effortlessly over the fine dirt of the debris strewn camp, his black, leather boots barely grazing the ground with his quick strides.

He glanced over to the bare legs of the miko he held securely over his shoulder. He could feel her tense muscles under the firm pressure of his hand and the strength of her grip as she held onto the thick piece of cuirass at his back. His eyes then wandered down to the needle resting in his yellow obi next to his two swords. While he found himself absently admiring her fighting spirit more and more, her skills beyond that left much to be desired. As they raced toward the crowd of cheering men and the screaming hime at its center, the idea of being accidentally stabbed as the miko fumbled to hold on to him was less than pleasing.

"Miko, prepare yourself," he commanded loudly, as he covered the last stretches of earth, the tall mountains of the bandits' coarsely woven pants nearly upon them. He felt her body tense even more at his words and a fine, fleeting smile graced his lips. Gusts of youki swirled around his feet, whipping at his white, hakama pants and after one final burst of speed, he crouched down low, gathering his pooling power into his ready legs. Then he released it. Like a silver shadow, they sailed through the air, scaling the wall of worn clothing and tarnished armor.

Lightheaded and dizzy, Kagome felt the air quickly and cruelly pressing out of her chest at the speed, her ribs screaming painfully, demanding to know why they were so abused today. She closed her eyes tightly, needles of pain stinging throughout them as the downward pressure viciously pulled, seeking to rip them from their sockets. Her whole body felt thick and heavy, aching under the wrenching pull. But she held firm, with teeth clenched and nails dug in.

The vague, gray blur of the men gradually slowed as they neared the crest of the leap, forming into broad expanses of shoulders and torsos. Gracefully, Sesshoumaru alighted quietly upon the top knot of one of the shorter bandits who was busily shifting from side to side as he tried to peer over his taller compatriots. Kagome gasped heavily, her tousled mop of hair hanging over her head. Weakly, she parted it to look down at the distant ground beneath them.

"W-wow," she muttered between gulps of air.

"Hn," he grunted, his tone unimpressed.

She twisted around wearily, seeking the bobbing heads of the bandits and hopefully amongst them, the dark, elaborate bun of the princess. A sigh of despair escaped her lips as she found the sight awaiting her. There had to be two, dozen men at least. She glanced back at the blank expression of the tai youkai.

"Thank you," she said after a pause, her breaths slowing as she finally caught them.

"Hn."

"I mean it," she quickly replied, feeling her eyes well up again. "I let things get out of control and I'm not strong enough to fix it. I'm sorry. I won't involve myself again. It's not fair for me to force others to take care of my problems. Every day, Inuyasha and my friends get stronger and every day I stand on the sidelines more and more, watching them battle, risking their lives. I just never realized how weak I was and—"

"Miko," he interrupted quietly, yet firmly, "Indeed, you are weak and fragile. Your body is inept and frail and your mind is naïve and dull."

"I-I know. That's why—"

"However, your spirit is strong. Foolish, but strong. To stand and fight to protect your charge, despite your weakness and to stab your fear, by stabbing that human filth. This all speaks of the power that dwells within you. One can train one's body and one can train one's mind, but a strong spirit is something that one must be born with."

The school girl hung silently over her place on his shoulder, the tai youkai's words slowly trickling through her mind. However, before she could respond, another desperate scream laced with colorful cursing in an angry, feminine voice drew her from her thoughts.

"Speaking of charges," the youkai lord replied, staring into the thick of the swarming bandits in front of him. "We must hurry if we are to save her from any serious harm."

Without waiting for her answer, he leapt off the tightly bound bun of hair onto the next bandit's top knot and then to another, hopping swiftly from head to helmet to head, towards the center. As he neared, the pink-clothed form of the princess was revealed, struggling against her captors. Two held onto each arm, bracing against her surprising strength as she tried to wrench herself away from their grip. A few, unlucky ones had moved back against the pressing crowd of eager spectators, nursing fresh, bite wounds and forming bruises born from her fury. Her kimono was pulled off her shoulders and the bandit leader stood confidently behind her, warily minding her kicking feet. Still holding his hand against his injured eye, he slipped his other free one down the front of her disheveled dress, finding a soft breast.

"How dare you!" she screamed furiously at his touch, jerking the men at her arms around with a new found strength. He answered her with a dark chuckle and a hard squeeze, while narrowly dodging her well-aimed kick back at him.

"Have you gotten that damn obi off her yet?" he yelled at the man hunched next to him who was busily yanking on one of the loops.

"I've never seen anything like it before, boss," he answered plaintively, rubbing his balding head in frustration. "Whoever tied this, tied it ungodly tight. There's no way I can pick this knot apart."

"Then cut it off, you idiot."

"Ye-Yes, boss."

"B-b-boss!" another voice called from outer fringes of the crowd, his voice shaky and anxious.

"What now?!" the leader yelled in exasperation. He was having such a good day. They had managed to rob a well-armed, merchant caravan this morning, stealing everything of value and all without any casualties. Then this afternoon, a stupid, unprotected princess shows up and he was going to find out what it would feel like to have royalty rubbing against him. So, how did he end up half blind surrounded by a bunch of incompetents who can't even get her damn sash off?

"It's Jiro, he's..."

"Spit it out!"

"H-He's dead, boss."

"WHAT?!"

"H-His throat's been cut."

"Where's the little bastard he was holding?!" he screamed, releasing his hand from the princess' bosom.

"My name's Issunboshi," a thin voice replied coolly in his ear. Then the world went red as the needle's point sought his only, good eye. Stumbling into the men at his back, he howled in pain, his fingers scrambling at his face and neck searching urgently for his tiny tormentor.

Seeing the new coating of blood streaming down their leader's face, several bandits hurried forward, ripping at his clothes, seeking the little boy hidden in the folds. Spying their quarry up at the nape of the under coat, they swooped in only to find their questing fingers burnt away from their hands, blood oozing from the blackened stumps.

"Thank you, Sesshoumaru-sama!" Kagome sang out to the youkai lord as he sprang towards the bandits, sending another fiery blast from Tokijin at one of the men's chests to finish him off as the others screamed in agony at the unexpected assault.

"Show your strength of spirit. Protect her," he responded after a slight nod, then turned to pursue the fleeing hunters now turned prey. Kagome grinned after him, watching as he sprang away, unleashing another torrent of flame. She turned on her heel, biting at her lip and her eyes brimming with determination. She would protect her. She would grow stronger.

OOOOOOOOOO

Chaos churned around the tai youkai, as the panicky bandits tumbled into each other, mauling one another with their own blades and feet as they struggled to escape from their unseen attacker. Bounding from shoulder to shoulder, he sliced their throats with his sword, necks spurting red in his wake. He frowned at the growing mass of bodies falling and gurgling behind him. Humans such as these deserved to be disintegrated, their filth purged from the earth they soil with their blood. He sighed. His sword though could only burn away so much.

OOOOOOOOOO

Darting in and out of the leader's clothing and armor, Kagome struck at his flesh, driving her needle deep. He yelled in pain with each stab, frantically feeling for her with his claw-like fingers only to find his own torn, bare skin. Stepping back suddenly from another attack, his unsteady feet found the prone bodies of his fallen men. Tumbling over them, the jarring movement tore away at the school girl's grip, sending her through the air and towards the rapidly closing ground below.

"Inuyasha!" she screamed, closing her eyes to the unfriendly fate racing towards her. That was it. She was going to die. No old age for her. No lying in her death bed saying goodbye to her children and grandchildren. No looking back on her long, accomplished life. No slipping away into one, last peaceful slumber. Just a swift splat on the ground in a fairy tale, surrounded by the dead bodies of bandits, a crazy princess and a way too serious youkai lord.

"Miko?"

"Eh?"

"Are you hurt?"

"Eh?!"

A soft sigh.

"Open your eyes, miko."

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, revealing a pair of arms and legs dangling beneath her and the blood splattered ground a few inches beyond. She pulled a hand up to her face, waving it gently until it gradually dawned on her that it was in fact, hers. So, she wasn't dead?

"I'm alive?"

"Of course."

She craned her neck up to see the backlit face of the youkai lord above her, his silver hair and citrine eyes glowing bright gold in the warm glow of the setting sun. She stared for a while, mesmerized at the beauty as the breeze picked a few of his locks, fluttering them like ribbons in the air.

"Miko?" he asked again, lowering a fine brow in concern.

"Eh? I'm fine. I'm fine," she mumbled quickly, searching for an excuse to look away. "Wait, where's that bandit? And where's the princess?"

"Over there," he replied nonchalantly, nodding up to the left. Hearing the screams and cursing, that a moment ago she had been deaf to, she looked up to find the hime standing proudly over the crawling form of the bandit leader. Struggling to protect himself from the constant barrage of kicks, he lay huddled with his arms over his head pathetically.

"Get him, hime!" Kagome yelled, holding her fist up in the air. She smiled appreciatively as the princess landed a solid kick into his side, eliciting a groan from his lips. She wasn't one to condone violence, but today was not a normal day by any means. "Let's go over there, Sesshoumaru-sama."

"Very well," he spoke with another sigh, tightening his grip on his passenger, realizing in that moment where in fact he had caught her. Kagome felt the clawed hand shift against her chest. Slowly, she looked over to her waist, her eyes following the hard elbow, then the thick muscular forearm leading under her stomach and finally the striped wrist and hand cupped ever so perfectly over her right breast.

"Pervert," she screamed, struggling against the vice of his arm. "I can't believe you did that! Let me go!" With a shrug, he released his hand from her body, along with his arm, letting the school girl fall the remaining space to the soft earth below.

Wincing from the unexpected blow, she stood up, brushing the dust and frowning at the smear of blood that now cut across her white, sailor top. She opened her mouth to complain about inu youkai rudeness and to ask if it was hereditary, when she noticed that the air above her was lacking in an inu youkai.

"Typical," she muttered, looking one last time in disgust at her shirt, before running over to the satisfied princess who had taken to throwing pottery she found strewn around the camp at her one time captor.

"Hime! Hime!"

"Yes, Issun," the princess replied pleasantly, thick locks of her once perfectly bound hair hanging down elegantly around her face.

"Umm... I-I'm sorry."

"For what?" she responded absently as she lobbed a tea cup at the bandit's head, fracturing it with a loud crack as it struck true to its mark.

"I didn't protect you as well as I should have."

"Issun, you are the size of my finger, yet you fought and blinded a warrior many times your size. I believe you did a job worthy of your name."

"B-but, you were..."

"Do not worry yourself. To be royalty is to be resilient. He is paying for his crime, I assure you. Sake jugs look particularly painful," she continued, her voice cheerful, "Wait here, you vile oaf. I am not finished with you."

"Wait, don't," he begged feebly.

"Yes?"

"Take this," he motioned into his armor, slipping a hand in and retrieving an ornately decorated hammer, "Just don't throw anymore pots at me, please."

"Perhaps," the hime paused thoughtfully and then let the sake jug she had just picked up fly, knocking the poor bandit out. "A jug ought to be permissible then."

"The mallet," Kagome exclaimed, watching the hammer fall from his hand to the ground.

"Indeed," the princess said with a frown and walked over to the unconscious man, picking up the gilded tool. Ivory and gold, it glinted in the orange light, the image of the sun in relief on its surface.

"A mallet grants hope," the school girl mumbled the last line of the poem, "We're near the end."

"So it seems," she replied with a smile, admiring the hammer and then looked down at the tiny figure at her feet. "Hold still for me, gift of Amaterasu."

"Eh?" Kagome uttered as the hime knelt gently next to her with the hammer in hand. Then with a swift movement, she swung the mallet down, lightly touching the crown of the school girl's head. Gold dust swirled and glittered around Kagome as a gentle glow surrounded her body. She felt light and airy and watched giddily as the world slowly shrank away. Another strike found her head and the glow renewed itself as the ground receded away yet again.

"One last time," the princess said, now standing over the waist high person in front of her. The final strike gave off one last burst of radiance, which moved like a wave through the forest, illuminating it briefly in rich, amber light as it went. "Issun?"

Kagome looked across into the brown eyes of the princess and smiled. She felt strange and watched the glow on her skin slowly fade into the honey of the natural sunlight filtering through the trees.

"Thank you, hime," she said finally, her smile growing into a grin.

"No, I must thank you."

With that, the princess leaned in, her lips quickly seizing the school girl's before she could react. Kagome flushed red; her eyes wide open in shock. A moment passed and the hime leaned back, satisfied with the surprise she had painted so effectively on the face before her.

"As for your actions earlier at the castle," the hime went on proudly, "I have this for you." A sound smack landed against Kagome's cheek, leaving a faint, red mark, jarring her only further into the realm of disbelief she was currently occupying. "Really, Issun, wandering through my cleavage while helping me dress. Such improperness. The least you could do is to wait until we've been married or at least engaged. Come let us go back to the castle and inform my father of out success and our impending betrothal."

She paused briefly to kick the bandit one last time and then vanished into the air leaving behind the perplexed school girl rubbing her sore cheek. The idea of what it must be like to be Miroku flitted through Kagome's mind.

"Miko," a deep, but thin voice called to her. She looked around in confusion, to find the tiny, silver form of the youkai lord perched upon her shoulder expectantly.

"You're still small?" He shrugged nonchalantly and looked down at her distant, brown loafers.

"The mallet."

"The mallet? Oh!" She crouched down, grasping the hammer resting at her feet. In a flash of blue sparks, it transformed into a seal of ivory that glowed gold in her hands. Engraved on its smooth surface, the rectangular kanji for sun gleamed. Smiling, she flipped it over to the long awaited poetry.

"Dog white as snow honors love. Envy black as ash steals all," Sesshoumaru spoke slowly, reading each character carefully.

"From tree grinds lost life. Broken to ash it returns. Dust renews Earth's grace."

"Dying beauty blooms once more. A stained heart may not follow."

"A lord judges all. Kindness honors the faithful. Evil honors none."

The final word spoken, the seal burst into a shower of sparkling dust. Ahead in the gap of a tent door, radiated the light of midday, stark against the last vestige of sunlight waning around them.

"Shall we?" Kagome spoke with a smile, eyeing the youkai lord settled peacefully on her shoulder. A long pause passed emptily. "Sesshoumaru-sama?"

"Hm?" he murmured absently, his mind snared in deep thought.

"What is it?"

"Nothing of importance," he replied, brushing away the strange feeling of dread taking hold in his stomach. He wasn't used to such feelings and it only served to make him even more uneasy than it should have. After all, it couldn't be that story. These were fairy tales.

Kagome frowned. The idea of flicking him off her shoulder for dismissing her concern so easily briefly floated through her mind, only to be swiftly squelched by the likelihood of him not actually flying off and her receiving a broken finger for her efforts.

"Proceed, miko," he ordered, with a subtle measure of impatience.

She stared at him one last time and then through the tent she stepped.


	15. Blood of the Father

Chapter Fifteen: Blood of the Father

The sudden, cool flood of air nipped at Kagome's body as she emerged from the tent flap. She gasped lightly, her goose-fleshed skin missing the warmth of the summer evening it was in only a moment before. Before her were a set of stone stairs leading up to the open air of a forest. Leaves of gold, red and brown fluttered down to rest upon the steps. From the size of the leaves she could at least count on not being tiny like in the last story or at the very least she hoped. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked behind her to find an earthen wall where she had emerged, the way back to the last tale gone.

"I guess we're free of that one," she said quietly and laughed.

"Hn," the small figure on her shoulder grunted mildly. He sat cross-legged with his hand tucked into his haori coat, staring ahead at the waiting stairs. The school girl smiled at the appreciative tone that had snuck into his reply, however subtle it may have been and silently wondered if she was starting to understand him better or if he was simply relaxing his guard more and more around her. Maybe it was both. "Proceed, miko."

"I-I'm sorry," she mumbled, his words having startled her from her musings. She looked up into the sharp azure of the waiting sky in the opening above, rubbing her hands together half out of being cold and half out of nervousness. Then she stepped forward, rising up the gradual incline steadily. Sparks of silver and blue swirled around the tiny tai youkai as she neared the top and with an easy bound, he leapt from her shoulder onto the final few steps above her. With one last bright flash, his tall form blocked the stairs before her, his full height returned.

Kagome frowned at the transformation. In a strange way, she had been silently enjoying having the youkai lord sitting upon her shoulder. He was so much less intimidating when he could fit into a pocket, not to mention his fur pelt was keeping her neck warm.

He looked about his person, inspecting everything carefully until he was satisfied that all was in proper order and then proceeded up the last steps into the crisp air above. The school girl quickly followed, now truly lamenting the loss of her scarf as a cool breeze caressed her bare skin.

They emerged into a small orchard in the throes of autumn, the skeletal limbs of the trees fanning out around them. Sesshoumaru looked about cautiously, listening for anything menacing, but only finding the melodic songs of the few birds that remained behind for the coming winter. Contented, he looked down at the miko next to him who was busily scanning the surroundings for any trouble as well.

"Hn."

"What?" she replied, returning his gaze with her own and a crooked brow.

"It is simply refreshing to see you taking notice of the world."

"Eh?"

"In my experience, many say they will grow stronger when they're caught in a moment of despair, but all too quickly forget their promises when their lives are no longer in danger."

"Oh," she exclaimed softly and then blushed, "I've been guilty of that all too many times before. But this time, it wasn't me who was going to pay for my mistakes. It wasn't me who was going to suffer, because I wasn't strong enough. I can't let that happen again."

"Hmm," he murmured, his eyes still locked on her, almost as if he was inspecting her face as he had inspected himself a moment earlier, examining the resolve hidden behind her eyes. She shifted nervously under his stare, feeling like she had walked into class and found out there was a test she wasn't prepared for. He quirked his mouth slightly into a satisfied frown and with a nod he turned away, passing through the naked trees. "Very well."

"W-what?" Kagome mumbled, walking after him. Why did he always have to be so damn cryptic?

"This Sesshoumaru shall benefit you with his knowledge, so that you may be less weak."

"R-right now?" she blurted out; her voice flustered, although she inwardly took note of his remark about becoming less weak instead of simply stronger.

"No," he replied, as he slipped between the reaching branches, their shed leaves crunching under his footfalls. "This Sesshoumaru does not wish to stay in this story for long. The last was made exceedingly long from many distractions."

"Do you know what this story is already from the poem?"

He remained silent, his pace slowing as he thought. The school girl sighed happily at his slackening speed, swiftly closing the growing distance between herself and the demon.

"It is not important," he said finally. Kagome opened her mouth in protest, but closed it without a word. Instead she watched the back of his head, his silver hair swaying with each stride. Everyone had their secrets. He could have his.

"Well, no distractions, then?" she remarked slyly, a smile growing on her lips. "Maybe I won't have to worry about being slapped for your transgressions this time."

"This Sesshoumaru is not responsible for your inability to dodge," he replied boredly, toying with a stray lock of hair that had loosened itself from the rest.

"I wouldn't have had to dodge if you hadn't gone exploring when you dressed her." He shrugged slightly, letting the hair go to join its brethren.

"It was a necessary act in aiding her with her dress. She should be honored by my attention."

"I bet," the school girl sneered, crossing her arms.

"You were warned that the hime was unpredictable with her behavior a moment before. It is your fault you were assaulted."

"Th-the kiss?" she stuttered, her cheeks flaming red at the memory. "How was I supposed to dodge that? I didn't know that was what she was going to do."

"Hmm," he answered, raising his brows, "This Sesshoumaru would not have been snared so easily."

"Look, if I knew she was going to try and kiss me, I would have gotten out of the way."

"A sword is quicker than a slap and a kiss is far slower than both, yet you could not move. It is amazing that you have survived thus far in your journeying in this era. My half-brother must have his work cut out for him."

"Hey, I can get out of the way if I need to!" she exclaimed, anger rising in her voice. She'd enjoyed drawing him out of his self-imposed shell with a little teasing, but this wasn't how she had expected it to go. "No one is going to kiss me again without my consent."

"So you say," he responded nonchalantly, waving his hand dismissively in the air.

"Ha," Kagome laughed confidently as a new thought snaked into her mind. This debate was hers now. "I bet you couldn't kiss me if you tried."

"Hn?" he murmured questioningly at her remark and looked back over his shoulder at the glowing expression on her face, her pride over her triumph dazzling in her sepia eyes. Then in whirl of air and leaves, he vanished. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt something warm at her back. Deftly, but gently he grasped her shoulder from behind her back and bent the miko into his elbow, cradling her against his arm. Slowly he stooped over, her rapid breaths hot and moist against his ear as he moved closer to hers.

"It does not seem you were able to dodge, miko," he whispered softly into her ear, his lips nearly brushing.

"I-I thought you di-didn't like humans," she stuttered, angry at how husky her voice had become.

"This Sesshoumaru does not hate humans," he continued with his whisper, "I simply do not care for anyone who disrespects me, human or youkai alike. Their species does not matter when they offend my person."

"B-but," she stammered, her skin growing bumpy with his warm breaths at her neck. "Y-you hate Inuyasha for being a hanyou."

"I detest Inuyasha for not respecting the noble blood he was blessed with," the tai youkai responded, leaning away to catch her eyes with his own. "He sought that jewel which you now seek to gather. With it, he intended to wish away his youkai blood, to renounce that most precious of gifts from his father. It disgusts me. He does not deserve the Tessaiga."

"A-are you going to try and take it from him again?"

"No," he answered after a pause, releasing the miko from his arm, "I will respect my father's wishes. This Sesshoumaru does not need the strength of that fang to prove his worth. It was not always my intention to steal it from that whelp either. If our battles have taught him to use that sword wisely and to respect the heritage in which he was born to, then my duty is done and all that was loss was worth the price." Kagome's eyes traveled down to the emptiness where his left arm should be.

"Was it really worth it?"

"There are no regrets in this life. To live in vengeance and lament is to ask for an eternity of suffering. This Sesshoumaru is too proud to walk such a path."

Finished, he brushed past her, following the vague trail that began to form through the trees. Kagome stood stunned for a moment, digesting everything that had just happened, sorting through the feelings that swarmed her all at once. Nothing was as simple as it seemed. No one was a simple as they seemed either.

Quietly they traveled on through the orchard, the youkai lord guiding the way. Time dragged on slowly in the silence, driving the school girl into an internal frenzy and not so subtly reminding her of what it was like to travel with Inuyasha when they first began hunting for the shikon shards. Shippou's arrival had been the only remedy and she doubted presently anyone would be joining in their journeying through the fairy tales. She thought about trying to chat up Sesshoumaru again, maybe even teasingly, but after the last conversation she found herself more than a little reticent. It really was easier when he was only Inuyasha's more violent, older brother.

Soon the trees broke into a narrow, dirt road. Without a pause in his step, the tai youkai leapt off the top of the steep embankment onto the hard packed earth below. Kagome quickly followed, sliding down the loose soil sideways to keep from stumbling all the way down. Dirt and small rocks spilled into her low cut shoes, eliciting a scowl from her lips when she reached the bottom. Carefully, she slipped a shoe off, dumping out its unwanted contents as she limped along behind the demon. As she absently emptied the second one, her face met soft, fluffy and familiar fur.

"Pbfft," she sputtered inelegantly, rubbing her nose at the ticklishness. "What's wrong?"

"Scent," he answered inattentively.

"Scent?" She stared up at him questioningly, furrowing her brow. She really was tired of his cryptic remarks. Ignoring her, he stood motionless, his nose slightly raised and his normally shallow breaths deep. He inhaled sharply through the nose, divulging the air of its mysteries. The trees, the soil, the world; none of it revealed itself from his efforts, but there was a scent. Somewhere.

Swiftly, he bounded down the path towards the smell that coiled in his nostrils. The closer he moved the clearer it became. It was living, a beast perhaps. No, it was a youkai. The rolling hills of the farmlands gave way to a small town nestled in a valley. He sprang through it nimbly, the old, wood houses and markets whipping by him in a blur. Ignoring gasps and cries of astonishment from the inhabitants, he leapt onto the rooftops, gliding effortlessly over them. It was close.

OOOOOOOOOO

Kagome sprinted down the road, hoping that it would lead true to the youkai lord who had long since disappeared from view. Quietly she cursed in her mind, her breaths too hard and ragged for her to express them outwardly. In the closing distance, she saw the regular shapes of buildings of a nearby village. Down the remaining hill she ran, stopping at the town entrance to catch her breath. After a few minutes of heaving, she stood up, noticing the muttered confusion and gossip of the few villagers standing in the street.

"Sir?" she called out to an old man leading his bay pony laden with a produce wagon.

"Yes, my dear," he replied, his voice raspy with age. "A mature woman like you shouldn't be out running, though. You could hurt yourself."

"Mature? I'm not old," Kagome spoke out, her brows furrowed in anger.

"Then, neither am I," he laughed, patting his horse on the nose. The school girl stared at him for a while, sure that she had seen him somewhere before.

"Have you seen a tall, white haired man in armor running through here?"

"Hmm...," he responded, stroking the gray, wispy hairs on his chin. "I haven't seen a man in armor, but I did see an old man with white hair running like a demon through here not a few moments ago. Damndest thing."

"That's probably the one," she said thoughtfully.

"Then follow the road all the way to the end. If he's going anywhere, it's there."

"Thank you," the school girl replied with a bow and then without a pause, she ran down the street. The buildings and people sped by her, their murmurs and calls deaf to her ears. Ahead in the distance, near two, isolated homes stood her quarry, the silver and red of the tai youkai.

"Sesshoumaru-sama," she cried out as she neared, stumbling to a stop a few feet before him. "What's wrong? Why did you take off so fast? Sesshoumaru-sama?"

Wary of his silence, she slowly walked up next to him, biting her lip as she moved past his back, seeking his face. She rounded his person and looked up into his firm expression. His jaw was set and eyes hard beneath his unwavering glare. Turning her head to follow his eye line, her own eyes settled on the white form of a dog sitting still on a dusty, worn porch. It looked proud and wild, as if it were nothing more than a tame wolf. Its honey eyes staring back gently under the youkai lord's fierce look.

"What's going on? Who is that?"

"Shiro-sama."


	16. Shiro

Chapter Sixteen: Shiro

"Sh-shiro-sa-sama?" Kagome exclaimed, her voice nearly screeching in surprise.

"Yes;" the tai youkai replied, breaking his stare to close his eyes and raise his hand to his forehead, his fingers and thumb seeking to soothe his temples.

"You actually call someone, sama?"

"Yes."

"Well?"

"Well, what?" he replied, peering down at her from behind his hand.

"Who is he?"

"He is," he began, his gaze shifting to the dog who had since leaned forward into a slightly ridiculous position to scratch at his ear with a rapid kicking of his hind leg, "my great-grandsire."

"Him?" the school girl nearly shrieked again, unable to hide her incredulity. The dog yawned wide at her reaction and gave her as much as a dog could, a look of utter indifference. She blinked twice at the unexpected expression, not quite believing what she was seeing. "I guess I can see the family resemblance."

"Such observations are not necessary," Sesshoumaru responded, sending her a glare that made her breath catch.

'He was definitely less intimidating when he could sit on my shoulder,' she thought, gulping at the knot of dread that swelled in her throat. Once again, he returned his sight to the dog who had since taken to sitting back on his haunches lazily, waiting for some yet to be named event to occur. "How can he be your great-grandsire? This is just a fairy tale, isn't it? It's not real. They're stories with lessons and morals, meant to guide people. They didn't actually happen."

"Miko, are you attempting to tell this Sesshoumaru that his family history is a figment of his imagination?"

"We-well, I-I, mean," she stuttered, gesturing with her hand hesitantly, hopelessly hoping to retrieve her foot from her mouth, "It's just that, tiny, little boys aren't born to elderly couples and if they are, they don't travel up rivers in rice bowls and battle bandits. Just like there wasn't a boy who lived in the forest and had woodland friends whom he wrestled with. They're just stories about courage and strength. About honor. Nothing more."

"I had thought the same, but it seems to not be the case. Regardless of that, after the many things you have seen in your stay in a time of demons and magic, how is it that you believe these stories to be solely fictional? Lacking even the barest hint of truth."

"I just," she began and then sighed, "I just never thought they could be real, even the barest hint. They're just supposed to be fables to guide people to do what was right and to warn people from doing what was wrong."

"Hn."

"So?"

"So, what?"

"What's the story of your family? I don't recognize this tale. It seems familiar though." He sighed long and hard, startling the school girl at the expressiveness and the strange weight that shadowed behind it.

"Do you remember how a youkai comes into being?" he answered finally, lowering his hand from his head to look directly at her.

"Uh, you said that youkais were either born from other demons, like humans or they were aspects of nature that gained a strong will and simply came into a higher existence through that." The youkai lord nodded slightly and the school girl sighed happily, grateful that he seemed to be pleased enough with her definition to not correct her.

"Shiro was a loyal dog who was honored and loved by an elderly, human couple," he began and then stopped, the words feeling strange on his tongue. At that moment, the tai youkai realized that he had never told this story before, not even to Inuyasha. It was such a major part of his heritage, of his lineage, but it angered him to even think about it. He absently flexed his claws into a fist, his nails biting into his skin.

"Okay..." the school girl remarked, her face puzzled as she waited patiently. His eyes turned away from hers to land on Shiro, whose triangular ears had perked forward with interest, his amber eyes unwavering as he returned the gaze. It was a story, an important story and it deserved to be told. And despite how he felt about the past, he wasn't one to allow his emotions to control him, even when it was anger.

"The couple had no children and lavished all of their attention and love on the great, white dog. They had very little food, but the best of what they had always went to him," he began once more, sure of himself. "In return, he guarded them and protected them. It was still not enough for all they had provided and Shiro sought to reward them with what they lacked the most.

One day, he called to the old man and took him out to a tree on their land. There he dug, loosening the soil and revealed a chest filled with gold. The old man loved and admired Shiro for his wondrous gift, but all the while he was ignorant of his envious neighbor hidden in the trees nearby. Later, the neighbor came to the old man, asking to borrow Shiro for the day. The old man thought this odd, as the neighbor had often tried to hit or hurt the dog. He was however too kind of a man to refuse and allowed the neighbor to take Shiro.

The neighbor tied Shiro to a rope and dragged him to a tree, demanding a chest of gold as well. The dog could not find such a gift for so cruel a person, but was forced to dig regardless. His claws found a slurry of foulness instead, nearly causing the neighbor retch from the odor. Angry and finding the fault of his own greed in the dog, he struck him, killing Shiro and buried him quickly in the hole beneath the tree.

The old man came to the neighbor several days later, worried over what had happened to Shiro as he had not returned yet. The neighbor remorselessly confessed to killing him for not giving him what he wanted. The old man wept at the loss and sought to honor Shiro even in death. He asked the neighbor for the tree and at such a small request, the neighbor could find no reason to refuse.

The old man chopped the tree down and carried its trunk back to his home. There he chipped out a mortar of which he and his wife intended to pound out rice for a festival in honor of Shiro. His desire to reward and to protect the loyal couple for their faithfulness to him only grew after his death and as they ground out the rice, they found that the quantity they put in increased tenfold as they worked. They tasted the overflowing rice and found it tastier than any they had eaten before.

Hearing of the mortar of never-ending rice, the neighbor's greed and envy returned and he came to the couple asking to borrow the mortar. Expressing sorrow over the loss of Shiro as well, the old man easily gave the neighbor the mortar to borrow, unable to refuse as he was too kind. The neighbor swiftly took the mortar home and pounded out his rice, but instead of rice, the same foulness that bubbled from the hole beneath the tree before now brimmed within the wooden bowl. Angered, he threw the mortar into the fireplace, burning it to ash.

Later that night, the old man came to the neighbor at his home, asking for the mortar to be returned. The neighbor heartlessly gestured to the fire, saying he burned it for when he tried to use it, it produce a putridness that offended him. Saddened once again, the old man asked for the ashes, so that he may have something to remember Shiro by. The neighbor easily consented and the old man gathered the ashes into a bag.

As he returned home, a few of the ashes spilled and the fruit trees which had blossomed in spring and now had long since lost their leaves in autumn, burst into flower once more. The final gift from Shiro, who was so adored and honored by the old couple. The old man soon spread the ashes throughout the land, earning respect and love from the people and gifts of gold and silver from the lord. The envious neighbor angered again at the old couple's fortune, gathered the few ashes still remaining in his fireplace and professed to be far better at restoring trees, calling the other an impostor. To the lord he went to show his abilities, wanting the gold and silver the old man had received. The ashes though, gave no life to the dead trees and the evil neighbor was locked away for his deceit, finally punished for all of the cruelty he had committed.

Shiro's soul and will to protect the old couple though did not die with their growing prosperity and fame for their ability to raise withered trees into the health and vigor of spring. Years after they perished in luxury, he came into being, as a youkai."

"He became a youkai?"

"Yes. An unimaginably powerful, tai youkai. His lineage, the clan of Shiro, hold their true forms as great, white dogs who control poison as in the story, to punish those who dishonor them. On their robes they wear the floral crest, the symbol of Shiro's greatest gift to the old couple and the world."

"A-And, you're from the Shiro clan?" she asked hesitantly.

"As is Inuyasha."

"And he's the Shiro?"

"Despite how mild his scent is, this Sesshoumaru cannot be mistaken."

"Everything else in this world is an illusion, I mean," she remarked, not really liking where she was taking this conversation as the likelihood of her coming out of it unscathed was rather dubious, but she couldn't let it lie. "We haven't found anyone in this story that was real. Maybe he's a representation, as the princess was or the emperor."

"No, he is the one."

Kagome sighed and rubbed her hands over her once white sleeves. The adrenalin and warmth of her run a few minutes before had worn off and the nip of the autumnal wind began to make itself known through the thin cotton of her sailor top. She looked at the sun bleached gray wood of the small hovel and the dark plume of smoke emerging from the opening in the roof, the promise of a warm fire beckoning her from within.

"Whatever the case," she said, stepping onto the porch, "I'm going to see if anyone is home. You two can have your staring contest out here in the cold, but I'm going somewhere warm."

"There is no one in there."

"Really? Maybe they stepped out", she replied thoughtfully, mentally debating just how rude it would be to sneak into a conjured person's house to sit by their fireplace.

"We are the ones who are meant to live here. You are the old woman and I, the old man."

"Oh?" she responded in mild surprise and then paused to look down at the white dog near her feet, "Is it okay for me to go in, Shiro?" At her question, the dog quickly rose and stood by her legs, his head easily coming up to her waist. Lightly, he nosed the door, pushing it sideways to open and trotted inside. A gentle wave of warm air cushioned itself against her body, drawing a smile of contentment from her lips. "Are you coming?" she asked, turning her head to face the demon lord who had yet to move.

He remained quiet, his expression blank, but faintly she could see his jaw still set and nearly hidden by the sleeve of the haori, his clenched fist. As the image of him rooting himself there like a tree crossed her mind, the tai youkai stepped forward casually, brushing past her. Letting out a sigh of relief, the school girl slid the door shut.

The quaint, little house was even smaller than it appeared on the outside as Kagome found out by nearly stumbling into the fire pit as she turned around to come in after closing the door. Steadying herself after she gracelessly managed to avoid her fate with first-degree burns, she looked around the dark room, lit only by the orange glow of the fire and the filtered sunlight coming down through the smoke from the hole in the ceiling. Around the fire pit nestled on the hard-packed, dirt floor was a raised wooden platform. Boxes and crates of various sizes were stacked neatly on it and a set of folded, thin futons leaned against the gray, soiled walls. Shiro had since curled up happily on a noticeably nicer futon near the fire, dozing softly. In the far corner, stood the youkai lord, the light dancing in his golden, eyes, giving off a beautiful, yet eerie glow. His expression, while often bored or indifferent, seemed strangely vacant and adrift.

"Are you all right?" she asked timidly. Unhearing, he remained silent and lost, watching the white dog as he slept. "Sesshoumaru-sama?"

"Yes?" he replied finally, his vision drifting up to the slender form of the woman and her worried look.

"Are you all right?"

"It is not for you to be concerned with, miko," he said after a pause, shifting from his position to go look at a particular mud encrusted chest sitting conspicuously next to the fire. He stood over it, staring at it in silence. Then carefully, he unlatched the metal fasteners and lifted the heavy, wood lid.

"What is it?"

"Gold," he replied quietly, hiding his sigh as he leaned back to allow the approaching miko to see. Stunned, her mouth dropped open at the glinting, metal coins piled within the box.

"Is this the treasure that Shiro dug up in the fairy-, I mean, in your family story?" Kagome asked in a whisper, hoping that her slip of the tongue was less offending than he might take it. A loud bark from behind her was her answer, as Shiro stood up proudly and padded over to them to inspect as well. "Did you find this Shiro?" she asked the dog happily when he arrived, scratching his head and behind his ear, much to his pleasure.

"It will begin soon," Sesshoumaru remarked, his voice stiff and still quiet.

"What will?" she asked absently as she rubbed the dog's chest, her fingers delighting in the soft fur. Her ministrations stopped suddenly as a thought settled in her mind. "You don't mean--?"

A rough knock pounded on the door, its abruptness rippling the peaceful atmosphere within the small room. They stood for a moment staring at the empty door and the heavy, menacing presence that waited impatiently on the other side. Stepping gracefully around the miko and Shiro, the youkai lord approached the door and grasped the shallow handle firmly, sliding it open with ease.


	17. The Insult in Honor

Chapter Seventeen: The Insult in Honor

"Oi, old man," a short, unkempt man with greasy, bound hair called out loudly from the dusty path in front of the porch. Taking the tai youkai's lack of response as an invitation, he quickly strolled onto the porch and slapped the demon hard on the shoulder in greeting. The man's dirty, calloused hand lingered as he grinned broadly, his eyes closing into thin slits. Puzzled at the audacity, Sesshoumaru looked over at the offending appendage, tempted to remove it in a rather permanent fashion. Stepping back at the glare he had provoked with his gesture, the man feigned indifference as he withdrew his hand to casually rub the non-existent tickle on his nose. "How have you been old man? Is the old lady home as well? Oh, there she is. How are you doing, ma'am? Is your back still bothering you?"

"What do you want?" the youkai lord interrupted, his voice hard and unwelcoming.

"Nothing, nothing," the man replied quickly and began to fidget nervously as he scanned the area around the porch. Finding no one, but himself and the seemingly old man standing in the doorway in front of him, he wrung his hands and let his sight settle back on the tai youkai, a smile growing on his weathered face. "Well, there's one thing. I need to borrow something. You know, from one neighbor to another."

The demon's eyes narrowed on the man before him and his nails dug into the door handle he still held, curls of wood shavings falling to the floor as his claws scraped. "What is it that you desire, human?"

"Just that dog of yours," the neighbor answered nonchalantly, pointing casually into the house at the white animal, now held protectively in Kagome's arms. "I've got a rodent problem out in my field that I need to take care of. I'll bring it back this evening."

"And why should I permit this?" Sesshoumaru asked in a measured tone, keeping his rising anger in check.

"Well, you don't want to be un-neighborly, now do you?" the neighbor snapped edgily, uncomfortable with the incessant line of questioning. "You and the missus are getting on in age and with no children and the coming winter, you don't want to offend the only friend you got, do you? It'd be a shame if something happened to the two of you, because you didn't want to share. Now just lend me the damn dog."

The youkai lord stared down at the small, burly man before him. He stared at his body bent from years of laboring in the fields. He stared at the coarse weave of his gray, sweat-stained clothes, ragged and covered in patches. He stared at his bare feet, rough and scarred from years of working without sandals. He stared at the pitifulness and the desperation and he understood why. Why the old man lent that which was most precious to him. Why he believed in another so unworthy of trust. It was the same compassion and generosity that allowed him to cherish and honor a simple dog. It offered only one option to such a person. The old man, no matter how rude and cruel the neighbor had been in the past or present, would lend him his greatest treasure, as he truly was too kind to refuse. He, Sesshoumaru, however, was not the old man and if he was one thing, he was not kind.

"Look, I'm gonna bring him back tonight, so I don't see what your damn problem is. It's only a stupid, mangy dog," the neighbor spoke sharply, growing impatient under the harsh, penetrating glares and quiet tongue of the man in front of him. The tai youkai clenched his jaw at the words, his teeth pressing hard against each other, the pressure seemingly tempting them to fracture. He wanted to rend the man. Shred him slowly with his claws, each scream of agony smoothing away the growing cracks creeping across his cool façade, born from the mounting anger that churned beneath the surface. Then burn away the bloody filth with his poison, purging the world of the wretchedness. He wanted the man gone and more than anything he wanted this dilemma gone. This choice he had to make. In any other moment, in any other time, he would have done that. Violence had always served him well when any other diplomacy seemed pointless or at times, dull. Now though, something intangible stayed his claws and dried up his poison. It kept his brutal whims at bay and despite all of his power and strength; he could do nothing, but watch. Honor as it was, always comes first.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?" Kagome called out behind him, still sitting behind Shiro, her arms wrapped around his soft chest. The dog tipped his head back at her words, his cool, wet nose seeking her cheek and he bathed what he could with his long, pink tongue. "I know what you said about reckless compassion and I meant it when I said I wanted to change, but are we really going to let that man take Shiro? Are we going to let him kill him?"

Sesshoumaru broke away his stare from the neighbor to look back over his shoulder at the miko and at his great-grandsire she held firmly in her embrace. The dog retreated in his assault of affection on Kagome and returned the tai youkai's troubled eyes with his own warm, amber ones.

"What is it that you wish for, Shiro-sama?" Sesshoumaru spoke softly. "Honor only permits me one path. Is it your desire to follow it?"

Shiro stood quickly, easily breaking his captor's hold and answered with a loud bark, pride and eagerness teeming in its single syllable. The youkai lord sighed faintly, still feeling angry and lost, but now more than before, he felt powerless as he returned his sight back on the neighbor.

"The dog will go with you," the demon said slowly, each word heavier than the last. The man grinned in response and rummaged through a sleeve of his haori coat.

"Do we have to?" Kagome asked quietly, sniffing and wiping at her watering eyes that were making good on their threat to overflow. Weakly, she rubbed the dog's thick coat of fur, giving him one last pat. Shiro turned gently and lapped at her face, drying it of the tears that spilled down her cheeks.

"To deny him his fate is to dishonor the sacrifice he made," the tai youkai replied finally. "There is no greater insult." The school girl sat for a while, considering his words before she nodded and hugged the dog as she rested her head against his warm body.

"Good-bye Shiro," she whispered into his ear and with a hard squeeze, she released her grip. The dog took a few steps away and looked back, sending her a soft, rumbling bark and then padded over to the youkai lord's side.

"Are you ready, Shiro-sama?" Sesshoumaru asked gently of the dog that had paused by him. Shiro stared down at the waiting man at the end of the porch who had found the cruel tangle of rope he had been seeking a moment earlier. Then with ease, he trotted through the proffered gap in the doorway and down to the neighbor. Quickly, the man tied the rope around the dog's neck, tightening it until its noose was completely hidden by the thick, white fur.

"Let's go, dog," the man said once he was satisfied and jerked the leash hard as he moved to walk away. No yelp escaped Shiro's lips and he swiftly kept up with the neighbor's rushed pace as they climbed the hill towards the field and small orchard on the man's land.

"Is that it?" Kagome murmured, wearily pulling herself to her feet. "Do we just wait for it to happen?" He glanced back at the miko with her red, swollen eyes and tear stained cheeks.

"I have done my duty," Sesshoumaru replied, stepping out into the bright, gray, midday light. "What happens now is not my concern."

"That's all it is? A duty?" she called out after him, her voice seething and wavering in anger as she chased him out to the doorway.

"Yes."

"How can it only be duty? He's your family."

"It simply is. I did what was honorable and now I will leave. What he does now is not my responsibility."

"You want to talk about honor? He was honorable. He died for that old couple. He died for your clan. And he died for you. How is it not your concern what happens to him now?"

"Miko, know your place," he warned from the bottom of the porch, sending her a piercing glare.

"No, I will not," she exclaimed, storming up to him, returning his intimidating look with one of her own. "That is your great-grandsire marching to his death over that hill. Your blood tied to a rope being forced to dig his own grave. The least you could do is watch."

"Your opinion has no weight here. You are not of my clan. You do not understand it," he said slowly and coolly, but with a voice edged and sharp.

"Oh, I understand it," she answered with a bitter laugh. "I've seen how your clan works, how you treat family. You forget who I've been traveling with for so long. Inuyasha had to fight for everything, struggling to survive in a world where he didn't fit in, being neither human nor youkai. The only place where he could have called home is this stupid clan with his asshole of a brother. But where were you? Huh? I think you were exactly where you are now, making it not your concern."

In a flash of white and red, a hand gripped her throat, the pricking of nails at her neck. "You will quiet your tongue about things you know nothing of," he bit out, squeezing harder as she gulped for air. He felt it, cushioning against his grip. The same barrier like with the bear from the Kintaro legend.

"If it wasn't true," she whispered hoarsely between gasps, gripping his striped wrist with her hands, "Why weren't you there to protect him, to give him a home. Why aren't you on that hill truly honoring Shiro by witnessing his end?"

"A cursed clan such as this deserves no better," he answered lowly and sourly. She looked up into his eyes, her own burning from the choking vice of his claws. His once angry glare was now broken, his golden depths adrift. Gently, he released her and she fell into a heap, coughing and sputtering as her fingers ghosted over where his hand had held her so tightly. He stared down at her crumpled form on the dusty ground for a moment and then pivoted away, walking down the hard, dirt road towards the town.

OOOOOOOOOO

The world drifted by the tai youkai as he traveled, his mind idling absently around his clan, around his history. How could something that was such a source of pride for him as a youkai enrage him so? And why wouldn't this feeling of anger die? Why couldn't he bury it? It was so easy to bury it before.

He leapt off the road, seeking the nearby forest and its trees to burn away his brimming frustration. Under the leafless boughs the youkai lord strolled, flexing his claws, searching for a suitable quarry. Finding a thick tree to his liking, he moved into a sprint, preparing his strike. As he closed the distance, he watched his nails glide through the air as they neared the bark of his victim. Suddenly, he retracted his hand and twisted away, coming to a rustling stop as he slid through the fallen leaves at his ankles. He looked at his hand in disgust. His claws, his stripes, his poison, his clothes, his hair, his pelt, his face; everything reminded him of his clan. There was nothing about him that wasn't the embodiment of his resentment.

"Find it, you stupid dog!" a distant voice yelled, breaking the demon from his thoughts. He focused his hearing, listening carefully as his feet unconsciously carried him toward the sound. Approaching the edge of a clearing, he peered through the few bushes that still held their leaves.

"Dig deeper!" the man yelled into a hole at the base of a tree. Hidden just beneath the rim was a hint of white and behind it, a furious plume of earth being thrust into the air. Abruptly the soil stopped flying and the dirty form of a dog leapt out of the pit. "You're not finished, dog. There's no treasure there. Get back down and finish."

Shiro looked up at him, his legs and chest caked with mud and maw open as he panted, a grin stretched across his muzzle. The smell of rot and decay wafted up from the hole as a green liquid bubbled and popped as it pooled at the bottom.

"Not again," the neighbor cried out as he fell to his knees, coughing and retching on the ground from the revulsion. "Why do you do this every time? Why don't you just give me what I want? What I deserve. Why should those two pathetic, old people get gold? They gave all of their food, all of their best possessions; they gave everything to a damn dog. It doesn't make sense."

Shiro stared down at his kneeling body, tempted to nuzzle him in compassion, but as he moved forward, the man struck out, his fist nearly grazing him. "I don't need your pity, you filthy beast. I just need the gold. Everything would be better if I just had money." The man looked up at Shiro, his eyes wild. "You could go home. Live happily with them. Never have to die. Never have to watch over them from afar. Be together forever."

The dog hung his head and looked back in the direction of the dilapidated hovel belonging to the old couple. His eyes wandered over to their weed choked field and broken fence. He stared at their poverty and their need and then with a good shake, sending mud and debris through the air, he returned his gaze back to the man and held his head up high and defiantly.

"You bring this on yourself, dog," he spat out coldly as he stood up and reached for his shovel. "You force me to do it. I have no choice." Slowly, he raised the spade into the air, gathering his strength. Shiro looked away from the man, his eyes settling on the youkai lord hidden in the trees. Their gaze caught and after a moment and with a slight nod of acceptance, the dog closed his eyes. A breeze caressed him, ruffling his short fur as the world fell silent. Then he was gone with a sharp crack of metal as the shovel struck.

His limp body fell to the ground without a yelp and tumbled lifelessly into the hole. The neighbor stood over the pit, his body shaking and the spade dropped with a soft thud onto the ground. A silver blur shot out of the forest, seizing the man by his throat, raising him high into the air.

"You will regret your actions, wretched human waste," Sesshoumaru said slowly and harshly, barely concealing his rage. He could feel the unseen pressure pressing against his hand as he constricted. "This Sesshoumaru is glad for this barrier that protects your life, for it is the torture that you live through that hurts most." A shadow approached the tai youkai as he stood contemplating his next action and silver hair not his own waved into the corner of his eye.

"You've done well, pup," a deep, warm voice called out next to him as a clawed hand with a three-striped wrist came to rest on his forearm, "It's nice to know my clan has gotten wiser over time."


	18. An Old Naked Youkai

Chapter Eighteen: An Old, Naked Youkai

"Stupid Kagome," she muttered under her breath, pulling herself unsteadily to her feet. The school girl looked down the road where the youkai lord had left, her vision cloudy and unfocused. Gently, she rubbed her bleary eyes, achingly sore from the tears and the choke hold. At that thought, her fingers traced lightly over the sensitive skin of her neck, still burning and tender from his grip. She knew better. He wasn't human, but a violent youkai who has more than likely killed thousands of other demons and humans for little more than insulting the fluffiness of his pelt, let alone attacking his honor. Despite the pain, she was proud of what she said. He deserved to hear it, every last word.

She wanted to be angry at him, like she had been for so long. Angry at him for abandoning Inuyasha to an indifferent and cruel world. Angry at him for abandoning Shiro to his grave fate. But hidden there in his eyes in that flash of a moment before he released her, she saw behind his impassive mask and her anger melted. He in a way it seemed had been abandoned too.

"A cursed clan such as this deserves no better," Kagome repeated in a hushed voice, thinking on the words. Was the Clan of Shiro really cursed? Her head jerked up and she looked up at the empty hill where the white dog had been led a few minutes earlier. "Shiro."

Quickly, she stumbled into the old house, her eyes seeking the rotted box and its gilded contents. She knelt down next to it, her fingers fluttering over the smooth coins within and their fine relief. She grasped a few in her hand, turning the glinting disks of metal over in her hand in the dark firelight.

"I could save him with this," she whispered hesitantly, afraid of her own words and what they could mean. "The man wants gold. We don't need it and the old couple wouldn't take a chest of gold over their treasured dog's life, would they? It doesn't seem reckless. It doesn't seem unreasonable. It was such a small and easy thing." She gulped hard and nodded, gathering a few more coins in her hand.

'To deny him his fate is to dishonor the sacrifice he made,' the former words of the tai youkai ghosted through her mind.

"Where was the honor in letting a dog go to die over money?" she muttered seethingly, feeling her tears return. "Where was it? How am I supposed to accept that when a few coins could save him? He doesn't deserve to die." Her sight wandered over to the spot where she had held Shiro in her arms, hoping he wouldn't leave. She had expected him to be dragged out by the rope, claws splayed and growling. Or maybe she expected him to whimper and hide, seeking safety in her embrace. But, he did neither. Instead, he stood up proudly and barked, eager to go. He knew his fate, but he didn't fight it or hide from it. He chose it. He chose to die.

The school girl let each coin slip from her hand and back into the box. She winced at every ringing clatter, each a nail driven soundly into the great, white dog's coffin. She would let him have his fate. It wasn't hers to take from him.

"Oh no," she yelled in realization, looking towards the glowing, gray rectangle of light that was the doorway and rose to her feet, "I need to go watch. Someone has to be there. To be there for him when it happens."

She ran out of the house and scrambled up the hill, following the deep, plodding tracks of the man and the small, light ones of Shiro. Ignoring her heavy breaths and the screaming of her legs at the exertion, she climbed it swiftly. At its crest, she sprinted across the hard dips and soft rises of the long, earthen rows of the dead field. She paused in her step, the papery, brown wisps of the lifeless plants around her knees.

"Where is he?" she asked haltingly under her rapid breaths as she scanned the washed out hues of the horizon with its forests and orchards.

"I don't need your pity, you filthy beast. I just need the gold. Everything would be better if I just had money," a voice called out venomously and she spun around. At the far end of the field, she spied the gray form of the man kneeling and before him, muddy and panting, Shiro. Wafting through the still air, an odor curled in her nose. The school girl stumbled back at its nauseating scent, tears squeezing from her shut eyes and her body bent in a coughing fit. Of all the things she would have liked to have smelled in this world, that revolting odor was not one of them. "You could go home. Live happily with them. Never have to die. Never have to watch over them from afar. Be together forever."

"Shiro," she murmured, straightening up as best she could and squinting through her watery eyes. The dog had turned his head toward her, but his sight went past her, down to the distant unkempt field and house of the old couple. His gaze lingered and then floated for a moment onto her. He wagged his curled tail faintly and then returned his attention to the man. With a good, violent shake of his fur, he sent mud flying before standing confidently, sure of his choice.

"You bring this on yourself, dog," the man spat, his tone both icy and biting as he rose to reach for his shovel. "You force me to do it. I have no choice." Kagome watched helplessly as the neighbor raised the spade into the air, readying his swing. Then it came down hard and fast, striking Shiro with a resounding crack.

"No," she whimpered, turning away quickly as the blow hit and covering her eyes with her hands. A sob began to build in her throat and she quelled it with a few hard gulps. "He chose it. I couldn't do anything. I wasn't meant to do anything. I won't be reckless anymore. I swore it."

"You will regret your actions, wretched human waste," a familiar voice tinged with an edge spoke up. "This Sesshoumaru is glad for this barrier that protects your life, for it is the torture that you live through that hurts most."

"Sesshoumaru-sama?" Kagome mumbled behind her hands. "Sesshoumaru-sama, you came?" Peeking between her fingers, she saw his vague silver and red figure holding the pathetic, limp form of the neighbor in the air, his clawed hand around his throat. Standing next to him was one other shape, a mix of silver and beige. She rubbed her moist eyes roughly and mentally condemned all of her recent stress for making her hallucinate. She reopened them, her vision clear. "Sesshoumaru-sama, the neighbor," she said slowly as she counted the people before her until her sight settled on the last figure. His long, silver hair swayed gently on the breeze, revealing his fit and toned body and namely his rather nice backside for her perusal. A blush warmed her cheeks. "And a naked man." She quickly pardoned her stress and gave it a medal.

"You've done well, pup," the naked man spoke up warmly. "It's nice to know my clan has gotten wiser over time."

"Eh?"

OOOOOOOOOO

Sesshoumaru stood quietly, the man being strangled in his hand, forgotten. He slowly turned his head, his almost imperceptibly wider eyes focusing on the striped wrist gently resting on his forearm. His gaze traveled up the pale, muscular arm, decorated with the occasional burgundy stripe and then across the broad shoulders and smooth planes of his chest. Finally, his eyes rested on the man's face. Framed with long, silver hair and bangs, his skin was light with three dark red stripes cutting across his cheekbones. High on his forehead was a familiar navy, crescent moon and his pleased, amber eyes caught his own as a pearly, fanged grin grew on his lips.

"Are you going to keep gawking at me, pup or are you going to say something to your old great-granddad?" the naked man commented with an easy chuckle and his eyes sparkled in amusement. Sesshoumaru closed his mouth quickly; unaware it had dropped open slightly. The shock worn off, his raised brows furrowed as he glared at the naked man.

"I suspected it was you, Shiro-sama," the tai youkai spoke firmly. "So, this is where you have been hiding for so many years?" The naked man sighed deeply, releasing his hand from the youkai lord's arm.

"Accusing an elder of abandoning his clan doesn't suit you, pup," Shiro finally replied, sounding disappointed. "And you are too smart to think that it would be so simple."

"No, it is not that simple. And neither is the curse of this clan."

"The curse is what it is. Your anger will not change its fate. Your actions will not change its fate. There is nothing that will change its fate." Sesshoumaru stared hard at the great-grandsire; his jaw set and then turned his attention on the dangling human gasping weakly in his grip.

"You will give me that tree," he ordered, his expression foretelling certain doom should he not receive it. The neighbor nodded and the tai youkai retracted his hand, unceremoniously dropping him into the pit Shiro had dug. The demon cast about the ground, his sight finally settling on a worn axe, its edge chipped from use. Grasping its smooth, wooden handle in his hand, he swung it at the tree, cleaving away at the fibrous trunk. With each sharp thunk, the tree shook violently. Arms crossed, Shiro watched in silence and after several more well aimed blows, the tree moaned plaintively and fell to the ground. Axe still in hand, Sesshoumaru moved around it, deftly removing the branches. Once he was satisfied, he tossed the tool away and reached down, grabbing the trunk, his nails digging into the bark. With unnatural ease, he picked it up and placed it carefully onto his shoulder, minding the arching metal piece of his armor. Facing the old hovel, the tai youkai pivoted slightly to look back at his great-grandsire. "I must attend my duties, Shiro-sama. Excuse me." Then he strolled away without waiting for an answer.

"Pups," Shiro said under his breath, before rubbing his forehead with his hand, slowly trailing his claws through the hair of his head, scratching at his scalp. They were so moody and depressing. He shrugged in defeat. The pup couldn't go far. Smiling mildly as a new thought caught in his mind; he stretched back, his arms reaching toward the sky as he yelled joyfully into the heavens, "I'm tall again! And I know you're over there, young one."

A distant squeak of surprise turned his smile into a toothy grin and he looked over his shoulder, spying a girl in green and white who was now crouched down facing away from him in embarrassment. He could hear her rapid breaths and mumbling stream of unintelligible words as the moment rapidly proved too irresistible to resist. Noiselessly, he moved closer to her, his bare feet treading softly as he masterfully stalked his prey.

"Is there something of interest over here that I missed," he whispered behind her as he crouched as well, keeping his overwhelming amusement in check.

"Pervert," she blurted out and swung to slap him with eyes firmly shut. Her aim was poorer than he expected and he easily dodged, slipping down to sit next to her, his arm around her shoulders.

"As I see it," he remarked, feeling her stiffen under his embrace, "It is you who was staring at this old demon's body earlier. I should be calling you a pervert."

"You're running around naked. You're the pervert," she contested, her cheeks growing in rosiness.

"I was naked before and you didn't mind."

"You were a dog!"

"Details, details," he said, waving his hand dismissively in the air.

"Don't you have a robe somewhere? Or at least pants?"

"Hmm... Perhaps. It has been a while since I needed clothes. Besides, I like being naked. It was how I was born," he answered thoughtfully.

"Well, can you find something? I want to open my eyes eventually," the school girl huffed, crossing her arms.

"Have you not seen a man naked before?" he asked, perplexed.

"Not really," she replied, her face growing hotter, "I've accidentally seen a couple guys at the hot spring, but that's it."

"Really? Only accidentally?" he commented, his tone a touch accusing.

"I wasn't peeking!" she yelled, her eyes flying open to glare at him, which she instantly regretted. Seeing far more up close than she had ever in the past, her blush reached new, uncharted hues and she squeezed her eyes close once again.

"Now you can say you have seen more than that," he laughed, hugging her closer for a moment and then let her go. "So young one, it seems you are not the mate of my moody pup and obviously not a youkai yourself. I would wish to know how it is that you were trapped in a scroll belonging to a clan of dog demons."

"Eh," she murmured as she thought, "I accidentally read the scroll belonging to Inuyasha and trapped Sesshoumaru-sama when he went to investigate his own scroll."

"Inuyasha?"

"Yes. He's a hanyou from your line. Sesshoumaru-sama and he both have the same father."

"I see," he remarked, scratching his chin and chuckled, "I thought that pup would take a liking to her. You cannot fight what you are."

"Eh?"

"Nothing, young one," he answered with another chuckle and an unwanted hug, "This old demon just loves to ramble. I haven't heard the sound of my voice in over sixty years. I missed it."

"Sixty years? You've been in here for sixty years?" Kagome asked incredulously.

"For a fair bit more time than that, I'm afraid."

"How long?"

"Fifteen hundred years to be precise."

"F-fifteen hundred y-years?!" she exclaimed, nearly opening her eyes again.

"It's been a while. I'm kind of tired of autumn to be honest. Summer would be a nice change."

"But Sesshoumaru-sama knew who you were," she reasoned. "He's only five hundred years old. That doesn't make sense."

"That pup is a wise one," the great-grandsire remarked with a content smile. "None of my other pups knew it was me. Even the ones who had met me before I was sealed here."

"He said, he scented you. That he knew that you weren't an illusion."

"Not everyone within this scroll is conjured by its magic."

"Really? Who? And who sealed you? Was it Susanou? And-and, why can't you just break out? You're a powerful tai youkai, aren't you?"

"So, many questions, young one," he interrupted, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "You will get only one response from me. Do not insult a god, especially an exiled one. They're particularly sensitive. No sense of humor whatsoever."

"What?"

"Now let us go and see what my moody pup is up to."

"Right now?"

"I will walk behind you lest your lustful desire to see me naked proves too difficult for you to resist."

"How dare you!" the school girl exclaimed, her eyes flashing open yet again to confront him and the regret swift to follow.

"Tsk, tsk. And I am the pervert, young one?"


	19. A Curse

Chapter Nineteen: A Curse

'Is he still there?' Kagome thought nervously as she made her way down the last of the steep hill before it leveled off into the rutted, dirt road near the old couple's weather-beaten house. Staring at her leather loafers as they sunk in the loose, gray-brown earth as she walked, she stepped neatly on the backward, mixed tracks of the man, woman, and dog who had climbed the hill not long ago. Silence hung in the air, dissipating at the rare calls of a few distant, lonely song birds and then resettling in its favorite place a moment later as if it had never left. The school girl bit at her lip and wrung her hands, tempted. He was so quiet. Sesshoumaru was quiet too, but at least she could usually hear the silk of his clothing rustle when he moved. Shiro obviously had no silk to give him away. A patch of shadow caught her eye and she quickly focused in on it, hoping the vague silhouette would hint at the inu tai youkai supposedly still behind her.

"A bird," she muttered in disappointment as the bit of darkness flitted away across the uneven ground and then vanished as quickly as it had appeared. She was being foolish anyway. The pale sun was high in front of her and if she did see his shadow, then that would mean he was in front of her as well and that was precisely where she didn't want him. 'Still', she thought with a frown, 'At least I'd know where he was.'

"Are you troubled, young one?" a deep, warm voice spoke up as she finally resolved to go through with a newly concocted plan. It was genius, at least in her mind. She would take advantage of her clumsy nature and trip. While she was face first in the dirt, she could steal a glance behind her without being accused of being a pervert, which was still confusing since he was the one walking around naked. Wasn't he the pervert?

"N-n-no," she stuttered, startled more by how close he seemed to be than by his presence. "I just didn't know if you were still behind me."

"It would not bode well for my abilities as a host to abandon one of my guests to this empty world, now would it?"

"I-I suppose not."

"But unfortunately, like my moody pup, I have been very rude," he remarked with a sigh. "As he has not introduced us and I have not asked your name. I would like to know it, unless you prefer to be called young one instead?"

"Oh," the school girl answered with flustered laugh. Introductions had slipped her mind as well. "My name is Kagome. Pleased to meet you."

"Ah," he replied, confusion hinting in his tone.

"What? Did I say something wrong, Shiro-sama?"

"No," he answered with a chuckle, "I was just expecting more."

"W-what?"

"Youkai do not usually have family names, but humans do. Has the observance of the family name fallen from use in my time here?"

"Oh," she exclaimed, her cheeks blushing from embarrassment, "I'm sorry. My name is Higurashi Kagome. I can't believe I forgot to mention my family name. I guess it's because no one ever calls me by it, so I've gotten into the habit of leaving it out of introductions."

"I see, Kagome-san," he replied with another gentle chuckle. Kagome smiled at her name, warmed by its sound. It seemed like an eternity had passed since she had heard it last.

"Is that why he never uses it?" she asked pensively, stepping over the rock and debris bordering on the narrow road leading to the hovel. "It's too familiar?"

"Who? The pup?"

"Yeah," she said with a laugh, running a hand through her dark locks.

"Don't take this old demon's rude address to you as appropriate, young one," the great-grandsire remarked after a pause. "That pup is the considerate one. He is one who has order in everything. Honor, responsibility and duty all have their rigid places within his mind and in his actions. It has more than likely never occurred to him to call you by your first name, instead he has chosen a title of respect.

"Miko?"

"I would usually expect a less endearing term from a pup like him."

"I yelled at him," she murmured with a soft laugh, "He kept calling me woman or human and it made me angry, because he sounded so derisive when he said it."

"I'm sure there's more to it than that."

"What do you mean?"

"You call him Sesshoumaru-sama."

"Well, he is a lord. It's only polite," she replied matter-of-factly before smiling in realization. "But, you know, when I started calling him by that honorific, that's when he started calling me miko."

"See, respect is important to a pup like him. And what you give is what you get in return."

"He calls you Shiro-sama and you call him pup. That doesn't sound very respectful."

"Well, he earned it. Sour, little whelp," he said bitterly and then grinned. She laughed absently, her fingers still tangled in her hair as she toyed with it.

"I suppose he respects you anyways," she sighed. "More than I did, at least."

"How is that?"

"I wanted to save you, but he said that it would dishonor your sacrifice if we interfered with your death."

"It would have."

"But, when he left," she said softly, feeling her eyes water in memory, "I went to the chest filled with gold. I was going to use it. Use it to barter for your life. But-but in the end, I couldn't do it." A gentle hand and a warm arm cradled her shoulders and she rested her head against the smooth skin at the outer curve of his chest as he embraced her tenderly.

"You did well too, Kagome-san," he whispered in between her sniffs. "The last pup as well as many others before him thought to bargain for my life. This man who killed me doesn't seek the chest for the sake of wealth. He seeks acknowledgement. He seeks to deserve the gold, to deserve the mortar, to deserve the honor of bringing life forth when it has long since withered away. Giving him such things out of pity or mercy only insults him, as it makes him realize he has done nothing to deserve them."

"Really?"

"You are a simple, young woman," he replied with a smirk, a fang clipping his lip as he caught her eyes with his own. "You are too kind like the elderly couple who gave me their best for so many years, but I think perhaps you're a bit wiser than they. Your compassion knows its bounds. And that young one, is what is most important."

"Sesshoumaru-sama was a good guide."

"Was he now?" he mused, scratching at his chin with his free hand. "Don't give that pup too much credit. Words are easy to speak, but you're the one who had to change. Although, I may have to call him by his name soon if he continues to impress me."

"I kind of like pup," she joked.

"It does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" he laughed and gave her a good squeeze before releasing her. "Now we only need to break you of your wandering eyes. Your hungry glances at my body while I held you were appreciated, but inappropriate."

"Then maybe you should learn to wear clothes," she teased with a grin, then stepped sprightly ahead of him toward the house.

"Perhaps you should learn to go without clothes. It's very freeing. And if you get too cold, this old demon will keep you warm."

Kagome laughed as her cheeks flushed hot at his suggestion. It was beginning to dawn on her that Shiro was far more dangerous than Sesshoumaru any day. Quickly, she stepped into the shade of the porch and through the open doorway leading into the house. A shard of broken pottery crunched under her shoe as she paused in her step, her mouth open in shock. The tiny, orderly room she had left was now the definition of chaos. Once neatly, stacked crates and boxes were strewn haphazardly about, their various contents spilled across the floor. Futons, pots, blankets, bowls; nothing was in its place.

"I think he shall remain pup for a while yet," Shiro spoke softly behind her, his voice strangely sad. "Excuse me, Kagome-san. I must enter."

"Oh," she murmured, moving to the side so he could pass, careful to avert her eyes. Once he slid by, she turned away from the room and leaned against the creaking door jam, her sight absently washing over the faded landscape of the barren world before her. "What was he looking for?"

"The chisels and files, I imagine," the great-grandsire answered as he rummaged through the room, tossing articles aside as he searched.

"Shiro-sama?"

"Yes?"

"What is the curse?"

"The curse?" he replied thoughtfully, shrugging on an old, gray, yukata robe. "The curse of the Clan of Shiro?"

"What is it?" she asked nervously. He sighed softly and tied the robe closed snugly at his waist, the fabric soft and foreign against his skin.

"Do you understand what a curse is, young one?"

"I guess it's something that makes bad things happen to people or the people around them."

"And do you know that not all curses are chants and magic?" he spoke in a low, measured tone behind her. "If they were, they would be easier to fight, easier to blame. But, some curses are simply the nature of the world. A sad twist of fate that dooms a family forever."

"What do you mean?"

"You know that youkai are the elements of nature. They are the animals, plants and all objects that were once of the land, the sea or the air. A strong desire changes them after they die or when they've been around for a long time and gives them a new life."

"Sesshoumaru-sama told me about it," she remarked, "And the most powerful youkai maintain the balance between nature and man."

"Not all youkai types are treated the same, particularly those tamed by man."

"Tamed by man?"

"This only affects the animal types as they are the most prominent in our world, but youkai who are born from tamed animals belonging to man are considered inferior amongst most demons. They are betrayers to nature as they made their home with humanity."

"That's not fair—"

"It is not about fairness, Kagome-san," the great-grandsire interrupted. "It's about perception and one that has been passed down the generations ever since man tamed the first beast to work for him. You needn't worry though. Cattle, horses, sheep and such are not treated all that differently. They were prey animals when they were wild and their role has not changed since they've become accustomed to fences." He slipped next to her, staring into the muted fields and empty orchards as he thought, pouring over his words. "Dogs though are not prey. They were great predators from the line of wolves who gave up the hunt to serve man as their protector. To most youkai, they traded in their claws and fangs for soft food and a warm bed. The only ones who usually befriend them are other canine youkai who see them as cousins before they see them as tools of man."

"Inuyasha," Kagome murmured, her mind trailing over images of a little, dog hanyou in a red coat fleeing from humans and youkai alike, each hating him for the same reason. She had always thought they had ostracized him for what made him different, but maybe it was what they saw of themselves in him that made them chase him and hunt him. Shiro raised a brow at the name, studying her intently for a moment before she spoke again. "Is that the curse? How can the Clan of Shiro be blamed for such a thing? There are other dog clans out there, are there not?"

"Indeed there is more to it," he answered, "You know my story, young one. I was a dog who died, because he rewarded his masters, but that alone would not curse this clan. Man destroys much and I would be only one more victim in a long line of pointless cruelty. I did not abandon my masters though. I did not hate them for their ignorance. How could I, when they only sought to honor me more after my death? So, I gave them more and watched it wasted as they were tricked again by their kindness for an evil man. It angered me to see them give it away so easily and my rage at their compassion and their gullibility only grew as I watched the mortar burn. My heart began to grow black and sick at the betrayal and had the old man not returned, I would hate to think what would have become of my spirit and what evil it would have done in the name of vengeance and hurt.

When he saw what had happened, the old man knelt at the fireplace. He gathered all of the ashes, tears spilling down his cheeks as he swept them up with his gnarled hands into a small bag. I saw the pain we shared. The betrayal we both felt and my heart lightened. One last gift was to be his, one that would free us both. And the dead trees of autumn bloomed as if it were spring. Life renewed when there was none left."

"How is that a curse?" Kagome asked quietly, sniffing and rubbing her eyes.

"It is not to those who understand it," he replied, "But most don't care to see beyond the surface. To them all that is there is the betrayal of man and the foolish dog spirit who gave everything to undeserving humans who wasted both his life and his gifts."

"Is that what Sesshoumaru-sama thinks?"

"It is what any pups born into the clan believe. This clan cannot hide from the world and be forgotten. No clan of such powerful tai youkai can."

"I see."

"But, that's why I'm here, trapped or not," he said with a toothy grin, placing his arm around her shoulders reassuringly. "Pups should understand what they resent. It makes brooding far more efficient."

"Doesn't anything ever depress you?"

"There is only one prison and that's the one of your heart and mind."

"Wouldn't that be two prisons?"

"Let's go find my pup."


	20. Wrath of a God

Chapter Twenty: Wrath of a God

Sesshoumaru knelt down in front of the battered, but sturdy work bench, its surface both smooth and split from years of naked exposure to the elements. Carefully, he surveyed the delicate piece of carved wood sitting before him, his focused, amber eyes pouring over the youthful tan grain starkly contrasting with the dark, muted umber of the table beneath it. His brow creased as he concentrated and a slight breeze ruffled his bangs, occasionally eclipsing the navy, crescent moon upon his forehead.

With a satisfied grunt, the youkai lord stood up again, retrieving a tarnished, metal chisel resting on the bench. Steadily, he raised the tool above the unfinished, wooden bowl and with a sudden, deft movement, he brought it down. The thin, silvery edge neatly sliced through the sloped, concave surface within the mortar, cleaving away a thin peel of wood in its wake. He struck several more blows, giving a slight nod of satisfaction after each resulting nick.

Twirling the chisel absently in his hand, the tai youkai looked over his handiwork, searching for any more imperfections that had failed to catch his attention. On the ground, at his heels and strewn haphazardly about were the broken remnants of less fortunate attempts and the irreparably bent chisels that often accompanied them. Woodcarving was not a skill that had ever interested him, but it was at the very least, challenging and even more so with only one hand.

Gently, the demon bent over and blew away the fragile curls of wood shavings resting in the bowl, sending them fluttering to the ground. He picked up a large, swollen, cloth bag and dipped his hand in through its opening. Casually, he scooped up a portion of its contents, sifting it through his fingers until he was satisfied with the amount and then began to pour it into the roughly-shaped mortar. The sand, which he had procured from the banks of a nearby creek, fell in a steady stream, their fine grains piling into a perfect mound in the bottom of the bowl.

Using his knuckles, the youkai lord ground the sand into the mortar, polishing away the jags and notches with an even, gentle pressure. With each careful, grating motion, he felt the surface resist less and less to his touch. Eventually, he returned the silt to the bag and examined the bowl and its smooth, buffed interior. A small smile graced his lips at his success only to be whisked away with the passing breeze. He set the mortar into the bag and gathered a handful of sand, rubbing it over the outside of the bowl and the passable stand he had whittled beneath it.

"I have to admit, I'm impressed," whispered a deep voice.

"Why are we hiding?" answered an equally quiet, but more feminine voice.

"I do not care to distract him from his work."

"But, can't he hear us?"

"I believe we are whispering, young one."

"But—"

"Whispering," the voice sang softly, swiftly quieting the other voice before returning to its previous tone. "I am deeply honored by his effort. The other pups were so unskilled in comparison. Do you think he'll paint it?"

"I don't know."

"Do you require my services, Shiro-sama?" Sesshoumaru spoke up, his irritation hidden from his voice, but not from the furrowed expression of his brow or the angry glare he quickly cast towards the corner of the house which hid the two interlopers.

"I believe you have revealed us, Kagome-san."

"What?!" the feminine voice answered shrilly, followed by grumbling frustration.

"No, my pup," Shiro replied confidently, stepping out from behind the hovel and casually strolled over to the work bench and the waiting youkai lord. "You are doing all that is required. All that duty asks for from a loyal member of my clan."

"Then I would ask to be left to my work without interruption," he answered, returning his attention once more to the mortar, scooping the sand over the rough burrs that still remained.

"It is true that I am not present in this moment to ask more of you," the great-grandsire quickly remarked as he stopped to lean against the wall next to the bench, easily ignoring his great-grandpup's stiffening posture. "I am here in case you have anything you wish to ask of me."

"There is nothing I wish from you except your kind absence at this time."

"Harsh words," Shiro responded with a slight smile.

"Truthful words and ones not intended to disrespect."

"So, it would seem," he commented absently while smoothing away a crease from his worn robe. "Then if I may be truthful as well, I must admit that my bloodline fascinates me more every time." The sand filtered through Sesshoumaru's idle hand until it was empty. Eyes widened, he looked up at his great-grandsire, whose lips had since spread into a soft, fleeting grin as he briefly relished in his pup's newly founded attention.

"The human emperor spoke something very similar."

"Did he? That man always did have a loose tongue."

"He was speaking of you?"

"Yes," he replied with a nod.

"Then, are you the reason that I was given one scroll and the other to my half brother? That we were given such dangerous relics without a word of their nature?"

"It is more complicated than what you have said, but yes."

"Then, please enlighten, this Sesshoumaru," the tai youkai spoke coldly, setting the finished mortar down. The great-grandsire sighed lightly, gathering his thoughts under the hard stare of his distant pup. They were always so angry and so very broken.

"Fifteen hundred years ago," he began, his tongue already aching at the tale that had been told once too often, "I offended a simple, filthy human, drunk on sake and his own self pity. His slovenly, pathetic presence repulsed me and since I am not one to keep such opinions private, I was quick to tell him so. I have many times thought on what I had spoken in that moment, but in the end I believe it was my disgust and disrespect which enraged him. He declared that he was a god fallen from the heavens and that one day he would return. And in the instant he wielded power again he would take revenge on my insult. I scoffed at his words and went on my way, his ilk too foul to soil my claws.

Then one bright, summer day, while I traveled my lands assuring all was well, a strange magic overcame me. It was like a vaporous mist, cold and damp, overwhelming my strength and subduing my senses. It strangled my voice and my body and brought me helplessly to my knees. Then, I, one of the greatest of the tai youkai to walk this world was trapped as I vanished into nothingness almost as if I had never existed.

Shortly, I awoke here, in this dying world of eternal autumn, gray and faded, waiting for the final, shuddering breath of winter that will never come. I was reduced to a mere dog, my form of old and doomed to the story of my birth. Fated, I was to relive my torturous death countless times until I am so ancient that I can remember nothing else.

The lonely years ground by as each painful day I was given away by the ignorant hand of the old man and slain cruelly by the desperate hand of the neighbor. They felt it too, the unending cycle of pointless violence, for even illusions know when they are abused. They however had no choice but to continue and I was too proud to try to escape my destiny, no matter how often the shovel fell, splitting my head. Honor after all, offered me only one path.

Then one strange day, the magic changed and I felt my old strength restored, despite my feeble body. It though, was not the only thing that was altered. The old couple who foolishly time after time handed me to the neighbor, paused in their actions and debated vigorously over the ethics of lending me to a man who would inevitably kill me. Unable to neither reason with the man nor barter with him, they had little choice but to allow me my grave future.

Upon death, my youkai body was returned to me and I swiftly sought out my unsuccessful, but well-meaning saviors. After some artful introductions, I learned that they were human monks who had found a pair of scrolls hidden away in a storeroom of a pagoda they were cleaning. Hapless to his actions, one read the scroll's words and trapped himself and his fellow holy man into this world where they had since made their way through two of the fairy tales, hoping that finishing the final seventh one would bring an end to their nightmare.

They spoke of burning the scrolls after they escaped, but I warned them of Susanou's wrath and pleaded with them to instead offer them to my clan in the west. Unfortunately, after their departure, my body of old and the indifferent touch of the previous elderly couple returned and my life and death as it were, went on like before.

It did not last, for soon the welcome embrace of two of my sons found me in the forms of the old couple. One of the monks had found them deep in my lands and had told them of my imprisonment. They were not quick to let me go to my fate, for they loved me too much to see me hurt, but one cannot fight the unavoidable. Again, I became a youkai after my death and told them much the same story I am now telling you."

Sesshoumaru looked on the old lord in silence, the words of his great-grandsire slowly trickling through his mind. Satisfied with the softened expression of his great-grandpup and the seeming lack of questions, Shiro continued.

"Despite their desire to do otherwise, there was nothing they could do for me. My power had not faded since it had returned to me after the first visitors from outside this realm. If, I, at my full strength could not break the magic of a god, there was no way my pups could either. However my responsibilities to my clan still ached at me, demanding my endless sacrifices to be put to use. To die a good death for nothing everyday ate at my warrior core. Then a single thought bore into my mind, a way to guide my few, wayward pups into understanding what my first and only meaningful death had meant."

"And so pups of the clan were sent into the realm of the scroll to learn of our history," Sesshoumaru interrupted, stealing the great-grandsire's words before he could speak them.

"The Clan of Shiro is an unusual one in its growth," the old lord went on with a nod. "Not different in how every youkai comes into this world. The new blood as they are known, were once simple white dogs cherished by their compassionate owners and who died protecting them from the cruel intent of their fellow humans. If their old masters truly honored them in death and their desire to guard and reward them spurred their spirit to become a youkai, then into my clan they were born."

"My mother."

"As I have been told," Shiro remarked cryptically, eliciting an odd look from the tai youkai. "New blood suffers little from the prejudice of ignorant demon tongues and actions. They were dogs first and proud of what they died for, no matter what those outside the clan may believe. However, pups birthed into the clan have no past or pride to fall back on under those same words of ill-intent. Instead they lay exposed, their heart scarring with resentment and confusion as the cuts of every unbidden insult and assault to their station and person tears into their flesh.

What connects us as a clan is our blood and our history. It would be a fallacy if I were to allow such hate to brew, corroding our bonds as a pack. I died once for the love and honor of my former masters and once was enough. Now I die for you and other pups like you, if for nothing more than to show you what my first sacrifice truly meant and to guide you into understanding your own true nature. I die now to give you the pride in your heritage that you sorely deserve."

The rustling sound of the thin ribbons of dried grass fluttering in the wind filled the empty air. Both youkai stared at each other in silence, one waiting in the advent of more questions and the other unsure of the answers he had already received.

"As you spoke earlier, it is not that simple," Sesshoumaru finally said, his jaw setting and his softened expression growing hard once more. "This deceptive tradition does not inspire my trust and a few elegant words do not erase five hundred years of insult and hate."

"If you knew the intent of the scrolls, would you have allowed yourself to be trapped here? Would you have come of your own free will to hear my words?" The young, youkai lord remained quiet and the great-grandsire nodded knowingly. "It is that same hate that blinds you, pup."

"If this hate does blind me then it was your own foolish devotion to unworthy humans who betrayed you and wasted your gifts that has made it so, my lord."

"Do you truly believe I was betrayed?"

"Ignorance of their neighbor's intent may spare them your death," the tai youkai spoke icily, "But, they sought no justice for your sacrifice and they insulted your spirit when they so easily gave away your gifts out of kindness for the same man who killed you."

"Indeed, goodwill was their failing and they paid dearly for it. No gold or fortune would ever replace the son they found in the great, white dog that warmed himself by their fire. And each time they celebrated my life after my passing, it was torn away from them by the evil whims of an envious man. Their foolishness though, was not malice. Would you have me go so far as to reward those who respect and honor me with punishment instead."

"I am finished with your mortar. Find another to give it away," Sesshoumaru bit out, before pivoting away from the work bench and his great-grandsire, making his way through the waist-high grass and soon his silver and red form was out of sight.

"How far would you go to reward those who respect and honor you, Sesshoumaru?" Shiro called out. "How far would you go? To another country? To another world? To the very depths of hell itself?"

"Will he be okay?" a meek voice asked softly behind the old lord and the wary figure of the school girl stepped out from the shelter of the corner of the house.

"He was right about one thing," the great-grandsire answered gently, resting a welcoming hand on her shoulder. "Five hundred years of hate is not so easily erased."


	21. Pride or Shame

Chapter Twenty-One: Pride or Shame

Sesshoumaru waded through the sea of grass, their thin, pale blades parting around him in soft, rustling waves. He plucked one absently, patiently teasing away its papery flesh from its vein with precise tears of claw. The stripped pieces of leaf flew from his hand as he worked until there was nothing but a slender skeleton remaining. Then he let it flutter away as well as he reached for another, beginning the process over again as he thought, his mind drifting over his past, his clan and the curse that both bound and split them.

'A curse,' he pondered quietly, staring at a tiny shred of grass caught between the nails of his thumb and forefinger, 'Did he really believe in such a thing?' It seemed ridiculous when he thought about it. The mere idea that something so elusive and intangible would hold any power over him was foreign to his mind. Yet there it anchored, nestled quite comfortably without his knowing. His brow furrowed and his claws mercilessly pierced the thin blade of grass he had been delicately holding, its shredded remnants flittering away on the breeze.

Years of vile tongues and actions had taken their toll. He had slain countless pathetic youkai for their mindless insults and for their pointless assaults. However, even as their bodies melted away into a burning haze of nothingness, their bitter, derisive remarks remained behind like hidden snares. He may have killed them for the impudence of their words, but that did not mean he didn't agree with what they had said. He looked down at the slender, burgundy stripes of his wrist and frowned. It was not a curse that he felt entrenched in his heart and mind, but shame. Shame for his clan.

The grass receded as he crossed the bare, dirt road. Effortlessly, he scaled the steep hill bordering on the other side and entered a thin, sparse orchard. He weaved his way through the trees, their brittle, bony limbs fanning out around them. A strange familiarity drew him from his thoughts as his eyes were caught by the dull glint of a worn axe hidden in the fallen leaves. Then the tai youkai cursed the magic of the scroll under his breath as he recognized the frayed remains of a stump and the shallow hole at its base.

He stood upon the crumbling rim of the pit, gently loosening clumps of earth from the edge with his boot. Down they fell, covering the bubbling, green liquid still pooled at the bottom. Feeling an odd easing of his heart, the youkai lord continued to push the piled dirt into the grave, erasing the thin grooves of the neighbor's handprints from when he undoubtedly clambered out of the hole he had been dropped into. With a new purpose in mind, he walked over to the stump and gave it a good kick, breaking it from its roots with a sickening crack. Into the pit it tumbled and was soon hidden away beneath a fresh cascade of earth. Then there was nothing, but smooth, discolored soil. The last vestiges of his great-grandsire's sacrifice removed from his sight.

"A man buries that which he loathes or fears," a warm baritone remarked behind the tai youkai, "But a dog buries that which he treasures. I wonder which is the case for you?" Sesshoumaru's amber eyes widened in surprise at the voice at his back and he cast a look over his shoulder at his unexpected companion. Leaning casually against the rough trunk of a nearby tree, stood the old lord, his arms crossed comfortably against his chest.

"I do not know," the younger lord answered softly after a space of time, returning his sight to the newly vacant ground before him.

"Hmm, a wise answer," Shiro commented with a gentle smile as he approached his great-grandpup. "Like love and hate, pride and shame are not such different feelings, pup."

"It does not seem wise," Sesshoumaru considered aloud and then looked up at the taller lord now at his side. "Do you not feel shame for being foolishly tricked by those who you had grown to trust?"

"For someone who has the lingering scent of fang where his arm should be, you should not be so quick to name another's foolishness." The narrowed eyes and the hard, unwelcoming frown of a scowl were the only response he received, eliciting a soft sigh from the great-grandsire. "There are times when I doubt. Times when I regret. It is an easy thing to say that if you had the moment to live over again, you would always choose to do the same. But, after thousands of deaths, the answer is not so simple anymore."

"You have chosen differently?"

"No," he answered with a slightly bitter laugh, "I've always made the same decision, chosen the same fate. I refuse to let this place break me. I refuse to let it erode away my resolve, reducing me to the pathetic, self-pitying waste of a man like the one that has imprisoned me here." Smiling faintly, Sesshoumaru considered the words and the will of the demon behind them. "I feel no shame for the sacrifices I have made or the squandered gifts I have given away for there is true honor and pride in every action."

"I know how to honor your death," the young demon remarked. "I know how to carve your mortar and if necessary, I can will myself to give it away to the unworthy. I can do all that is asked of me out of duty and honor to my clan, but you ask for more than that. You ask for pride as well and that I cannot give."

"Pride. Yes, I desire that from you. Mindless honor and duty are not enough. I wish to purge the hate and shame from your heart and fill it with love and pride instead. I wish to open your eyes so that you may truly see who the fool in this story is. For I can assure you it is not I."

"And who is that?"

"You are," Shiro replied with a devious smirk at the returning scowl gracing the young tai youkai's face, "As the old man who unthinkingly lent his loyal dog to the wicked neighbor. As the one who carved a mortar of overflowing rice only to waste it on the same cruel man who had remorselessly slaughtered the greatest joy of his life only the day before."

"I am not the old man."

"No, you are not, but his is the role that has been entrusted to you."

"How are you expecting me to reject this shame and hate if I am to embrace the actions of the human who is the cause?"

"I am not asking you to embrace the betrayal and pain, but to look beyond it and see the gift for what it truly was." The great-grandsire swiftly strolled back over to the tree he had leaned against a moment earlier and carefully retrieved a small package nestled in the gnarled roots at its base. He slipped the smooth mortar out of the cloth bag and held it out to the young lord. "I told you that I had finished dying for those humans a long time ago and that I now die for you. This is then not a gift for the old couple, but for you. Whether you treasure it for the brief time you have it or squander it before it is stolen from you is your decision. Pride or shame. Love or hate. The choice is yours."

An empty silence passed as Sesshoumaru stared at the wooden bowl proffered before him. His great-grandsire remained still in the pale sunlight, patiently waiting with his warm, inviting expression. Then with a hesitant grasp, the young demon took it into his hand, cautious not to spill the freshly-made rice cakes within.

"I will leave you now to think, Sesshoumaru," Shiro spoke up, before turning away in the direction of the old house down the hill.

"Did it hurt?"

"Hurt?"

"Death," Sesshoumaru asked, absently freeing a few fingers to feel for the thick hilt of the Tenseiga at his hip. "Did it hurt?"

"Every time," Shiro replied quietly, his voice distant and pained. "One is only meant to die once. That is why a true warrior's death is glorious. Any more than that is simply torture." Then the old lord strolled away leaving his great-grandpup cradling the mortar in peace.

Sesshoumaru looked down into the bowl and the expertly molded clumps of cooked rice sitting at the bottom and frowned. Having only one hand really was troublesome. He scanned the landscape, spying his quarry sitting conspicuously just outside a lonely field. Walking lazily, he made his way to the granite boulder and set the mortar down gently on its flat, rough surface. He plucked a white cake from its nest, the fine grains sticking slightly to his fingers as he examined it carefully.

"Treasure it or squander it?" he asked himself under his breath with a brow furrowed. Pride or shame, the decision would be his own. No curse or clan would make the choice for him and his answer, good or bad would be his and only his. Then without further thought, he bit into the rice ball. The delicate flavor melted on his tongue marbled with just enough saltiness to bring out the sweet, but savory taste. He chewed it slowly, absorbed by the inviting texture of the grains and the light, clean feeling in his mouth after he swallowed. He finished each cake leisurely, drawing out his meal until he was left with only a few lost grains sitting sadly at the bottom of the bowl.

He heard a shuffling step closing behind him and the hunched figure of the neighbor came into the corner of his eye. The ragged, soiled man stood impatiently behind him, fidgeting in nervousness.

"What do you want, human?" the tai youkai asked finally, looking over his shoulder with a cool, golden stare.

"I heard you have come into the possession of a mortar that gives you never-ending rice and I wish to borrow it."

"Borrow it?" the youkai lord spoke with mock incredulity. "You have slain the dog whose spirit has bequeathed me with this gift. Why should I give it to you?"

"I miss the dog as well," the neighbor answered, his tone suddenly solemn. "He was a good animal and did not deserve his fate. I wish to celebrate his life with a festival. It would only be fitting if I used the mortar which he has gifted to you."

"No, he did not deserve his fate and you the deliverer of it do not deserve this mortar. You will only destroy it out of your own greed and envy, wretched filth." Sesshoumaru turned to face the man and with a glare, he held out the bowl. "I am only here to fulfill a duty and this mortar is destined to be in your hands whether I choose it to be so or not. Do know that if this were not the case you would never have had the pleasure of asking."

"Thank you," the neighbor answered hesitantly, his tone hinted with confusion as he reached out cautiously for the bowl. Once he held it in his own hands, he quickly bowed and scurried across the field, the youkai lord's angry stare following him until he disappeared. His expression softened and he looked down at the dark stripes on his wrist. Living with pride would be harder than living with shame, but even now his heart felt lighter and for a brief, lonely moment, a warm, subtle smile spread across his lips.


	22. The Harder Path

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Harder Path

The gray, innocuous smoke of a cooking fire billowed gently from the roof of an old, weather beaten house. Barely more than a shack, the faded wood of its walls and roof were splintered by the endless decay from the unhurried touch of apathy and time. Around the worn foundation and through the thin porch, the pale ribbons of sparse grass crinkled in the faint breeze. The hollow emptiness of the neighbor's house seemed to leak from its cracks, sapping the already desolate world around it of even the whispers of life.

Nearby, under the scant shade of a leafless, cherry tree, the white and crimson figure of the youkai lord waited. He leaned lightly against the smooth trunk, his sharp nails teasing away at the papery bark as he observed the hovel absently. His sight drifted away on occasion, often settling on his own clothing where he marveled at how the vibrancy of the red, blue and gold that accented it seemed to fade with every barren moment he spent near the house.

Sesshoumaru couldn't remember the last time he had ever waited for anything. As a powerful tai youkai, he simply sought what he wanted, the only barrier being not knowing where it might be. The act of waiting was just never an issue. He was quick though to remind himself that there was a difference between waiting and having patience. Patience was a skill he held in droves. Any warrior, no matter his strength, wouldn't remain alive for long without some measure of it. As impatience often leads to ignorance and that alone has led even the mightiest to their demise. 'Regardless,' he thought silently as he meticulously cleaned the dirt and debris of the tree bark from his claws with a few deft scrapes of his thumbnail, 'It has been a long time since I have waited.'

A strange, tingling sensation crept into the back of the youkai's mind, setting him on alert. No sound came to his ears and no scent to his nose, but that second sense ingrained in every man of the sword whispered to him, telling him that he was indeed not alone.

"Shiro-sama," he called out, his tone far from questioning and the warm answering chuckle proving far from surprising.

"My skills must be slipping," the old lord commented as he came to stand next to his great-grandpup. "Too many years wasting away here, I suppose." The young lord glanced at the comparatively simply robed demon next to him and gave a soft snort.

"I would not consider completely concealing one's heartbeat or youki as "slipping", my lord," he scoffed, hiding the begrudging edge that threatened to slip into his voice. He did not miss the brief, fanged grin that his response had elicited either.

"Observant, pup," Shiro remarked warmly, affectionately clapping the young lord across the shoulders, ignoring the scowl it drew from his lips. "Although, I expect nothing less from you, it is often the case that inside or outside of the scroll, few take the time to watch, to scent, to listen and to think." Sesshoumaru regarded his great-grandsire in silence, suspiciously sorting through the apparent compliment before the demon's next comment wrenched him away. "How different you are from your father."

"I am not the son who resembles him," the young tai youkai answered slowly and rigidly, his thoughts stolen by his great-grandsire's words and their obvious implications.

"So, it would seem," Shiro chuckled in response, running his free hand through his silver hair. "He was a brash pup, both arrogant and angry. Not particularly uncommon for most who have made the journey. It took several well-aimed smacks with a stick to get that one to listen when only a few words managed the same with you."

"I admit my father tended to be overly confident and occasionally an emotional man, but I can hardly believe he would be so foolhardy and insolent to strike at you, the lord of our clan."

"Matters of the heart and the soul can affect even the most disciplined of warriors, pup. A swordsman or an army is easy to fight. Your enemies are your enemies and he who is better with the blade or has the most luck on his side will win. Simple. A curse however, is a far more powerful thing, especially when shame is concerned. How insidious our minds can be, spoiling us without even drawing a sword. He though, like you, made the same decision and chose the same fate. The harder path of pride and honor."

"I noticed his change, but he died in battle soon after and before I could learn the reason."

A familiar acrid scent saturated the air, abruptly ending the conversation and drawing the demons' attention to the old house before them. Muffled by the thin walls, the neighbor's voice rang out in a string of expletives and a moment later the harmless, gray smoke emerging from the roof turned black and menacing.

"My final gift awaits you," Shiro spoke quietly, his eyes not leaving the growing, thick smoke clinging heavily in the air. He slipped his hand into the opening of his robe above the sash and withdrew the empty bag he had used to carry the mortar earlier. Casually, he handed it to Sesshoumaru. "With it you shall be free, at least of this story."

"Is there not a lord with withered trees that I must cure as in the poem and our history?" Sesshoumaru asked, mildly perplexed as he took the proffered sack, securing it in his obi.

"There is only one lord here, pup," Shiro remarked with a grin and deepening the young lord's curiosity. His smile quickly took on a mischievous quality when he noticed his great-grandpup's single, furrowed brow and unusually rapt interest. Then he whispered as if revealing a long, withheld secret to the light of day. "It is the way with all forgotten relics, products of the heavens or not, that their magic will not last forever. It will inevitably begin to fade. And as it does here, my power grows, seeking the flaws of the weakening magic and fracturing and reshaping the will of a god."

"You removed the human lord from the story," Sesshoumaru said after a pause, finally understanding what the crafty, old tai youkai was hinting at. "You are able to change the fairy tale."

"Perhaps," he replied noncommittally, "My old, human masters were meant to follow and be rewarded by the human lord of the land, but what could such a man give to the pups of the Clan of Shiro? What purpose would he serve that I am not already providing? This clan serves only one lord and one alone."

"If you can rid your story of illusions, why not rid yourself of the neighbor as well? Simply speaking with any of the pups who travel through here should be enough to dispel the curse. Why subject yourself to that filth's whims?"

"It is possible," Shiro answered reflectively, speaking to himself as much as to Sesshoumaru. "I have thought of doing it many times. Every time the cold spade strikes me. Every time the hot fire burns my mortar. Every time he insults my sacrifice and honor for the sake of his own self-pity and despair. Often, I want to dissolve him back to the nothingness from where he was spawned. But even so, it is with that waste of a man, not unlike the waste of a god he resembles that my strength and my resolve dwell. Can one truly exist in this barren place without some obstacle to overcome? Some enemy to vanquish? The hope of the arrival of a wayward pup searching for answers is not enough here. If being reduced to the weak form of a dog and being subjected to the pain of never ending deaths means I have a reason to fight, then I will take that pointless torture over the agonizing peace of loneliness."

"If the magic continues to decay, you will be free one day."

"Yes, I will crush this prison one day and defy the pathetic god that chained me here. Fifteen hundred years have passed and another fifteen hundred may still come, but I will break it and smell the sweet, honey scent of summer again. It is my hope, my dream that you, Sesshoumaru and the rest of my clan are there to greet me, because without you, there is no Clan of Shiro. Only Shiro and that is one torture that I could not bear."

They stood quietly together, watching the black smoke continue to rise, marring the pale sky with its dark plume. The young lord stared at the old one expectantly from the corner of his eye, wondering if he had anymore secrets to divulge, but Shiro said nothing further. Eventually, he released Sesshoumaru's shoulders and turned away, strolling toward the elderly couple's house a short distance down the easy sloping hill. "I must fetch the young woman from her much needed rest. I will return shortly so that you both may be on your way."

Once his great-grandsire was out of sight, the tai youkai returned his attention to the hovel. He took a step forward, noticing the hesitancy he felt before with the rice cakes was conspicuously absent in both his mind and actions. He smiled mildly at the return of his usual sureness. The gift was his and the wait was over.

OOOOOOOOOO

A sudden, hard knock at his crooked door jarred the neighbor out of his frustrated anger and lament. He eyed the entrance suspiciously, knowing all too well who stood outside the threshold of his rundown home. Anxiously, he rose off of his comfortable seat near the dying embers of the hearth. His nose and lungs burned at the sickening odor that still reeked in the air and had only grown more pungent when he threw the revolting mortar into the fire. While he didn't look forward to the guest who waited patiently for him at the other side of his door, he did welcome the fresh air that would be accompanying him.

The neighbor jerked the sliding door open, kicking it free several times as it became lodged in the warped groove. The youkai lord looked down at the small, filthy man who was busily cursing at the obstinate door as he jammed it down the track. How inconsequential this oily, wretched human seemed to him now. He was so imposing and wicked before when the weight of the curse was set firmly on his shoulders, but now with it lifted, the man was nothing, only a pathetic creature drowning in his own envy and self-pity. The words of Shiro came to mind as Sesshoumaru stared at the neighbor in disgust. 'That waste of a man, not unlike the waste of a god that he resembles.'

"Move," the tai youkai ordered, his patience even more taxed by the revelation. He brushed past the man roughly and stepped through the narrow doorway into the house. Quickly, his eyes focused in on the dead fire in the center of the room and within it the gray, powdery ashes of the mortar.

"What do you think you're doing, old man?" the neighbor protested angrily, his thoughts no longer concerned with his broken door as he stared in shock at the figure now kneeling at his cooking hearth. "You need to ask for those ashes."

"I will not ask for what is mine," Sesshoumaru answered coldly, his customary glare acting to thoroughly silence the man and assure there were no further objections. Satisfied, he returned his attention to the blackened earth before him and the soft, white mounds cradled at the center. Gently, he scooped his hand into the pile, the delicate flakes still warm from the fire. Then he carefully dumped them into the open bag he had placed at his feet. Sweeping the remaining ashes together, he remolded the shrinking pile and scooped again. Repeating his motions several times, soon nothing remained, but the hard, dark ground. He lifted the surprisingly light bag, considering it for a moment and then stood up. With a proud and graceful ease, the youkai lord made his way through the unkempt house and paused a moment at the doorway, his cool, golden eyes catching the nervous man at his side.

"I can see now why Shiro-sama allows you to exist," the tai youkai commented casually, indifferent to whether the neighbor was listening or not. "You are more than the purveyor of shame and torture in this empty world. You are more than the injustice that was leveled against him. You are more than the essence of the god that he battles every moment he is trapped here. You are the unexpected beacon that gives him purpose amid the senselessness. Because if he loses hope, if he loses his heart here, then he will become you and that I believe is what Susanou intended so many years ago. So live on wretched human, for you are not worth soiling my claws over."

With that, Sesshoumaru left the house, stepping out into the pale light of the day. Under the naked boughs of the cherry tree stood the smiling Shiro and the yawning Kagome, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Are you ready, pup?"

"Yes," the young lord answered, glancing at the filled sack in his hand.

"In some ways," Shiro said wistfully, "This is the moment that makes it all bearable. A simple pleasure, really, but often those are the moments that make life worth living."

"Hn," he snorted in accession as he set the bag down on the ground, his hand seeking the opening. Cradling an ample amount of ash in his palm, the young youkai lord stepped towards the waiting tree and readied his arm.

"Shiro-sama," the school girl spoke up with a smile and followed with a low bow. "Thank you for your words earlier and for your generosity. I hope one day you'll be free and able to take your place at the head of your clan."

"Your welcome, Kagome-san," he replied with a warm smile and his own bow. "Keep your spirit and find your strength, young one. You will need it. I cannot see beyond my own tale, but I do know that the trials that await both of you are ones far more difficult than either of you may imagine."

Ashes showered into the air, sparkling silver as they floated over the skeletal branches of the cherry tree. Silence enveloped the group as the glittering dust dissipated, leaving the world unchanged.

"Is that it?" Kagome asked at a loss.

"Wait for it, young one."

The sweet scent of sakura blossoms, faint at first, grew on the rising breeze. Then she spied one, a light green bud forming at the end of one of the thin tips of the fanning branches. Then another and another, as the tree swelled with brimming life, eager to burst open. When it seemed like no more buds could fill the weighted branches, they exploded open in a shower of vibrant blooms. Rich pinks and purples saturated the tree, drowning out the faded landscape around it. Speechless and enraptured, the three looked on the soft waves of flower blooms with a warm contentment filling their hearts.

Hidden in a crack in the trunk, something caught the young, tai youkai's eye drawing him away from the spectacle. Shiro watched him go to investigate with a smile and turned to the pretty, young woman at his side. The falling petals glittered pink in her reflecting eyes as she marveled at the richness and vibrancy she hadn't realized she missed. An idea caught in the old lord's mind and he shrugged in acquiescence. He really couldn't resist.

"Kagome-san?" he asked in a deep tone.

"Yes, Shiro-sama?" A warm hand slipped around her waist, dipping her back off her feet as she squeaked in surprise. Bending low, his intense, amber eyes sought her wide, sepia stare, stealing her shock and replacing it with a deep, rosy blush.

"You should know," he whispered huskily, his breath sweet and hot against her cheeks. "I would die everyday, if it meant I could spend every night with you." Her mouth moved helplessly as her words failed her. Then he moved in close, brushing his lips against hers teasingly, before taking them fully against his own in a deep kiss. His mouth moved against hers, guiding her lips with his as he slipped his tongue easily into her mouth, tasting her. She went limp in his arms, unable to hold a thought, let alone protest. Then as quickly as it had begun, it ended as he leaned back and grinned his fanged smile. "But then again, I die everyday anyways, so I suppose that would mean very little."

"We shall meet again, Sesshoumaru," the old lord called out to his great-grandpup as he set the numb Kagome as well as he could back on her feet. "Remember your pride and your honor. Remember what it truly means to give. If you do, then the curse will never claim you again."

"I will look after the clan, Shiro-sama until you are with us again," Sesshoumaru answered with a bow, holding a flat piece of wood in his hand. "And you will return to us for even a god cannot keep you away forever."

Shiro smiled proudly and bowed. Then with a quick movement of his hand, he tossed his robe high into the air and strolled away, vanishing into nothingness.

The youkai lord looked on for a while before letting his gaze wander to the wooden seal in his hand. Engraved on the sanded plank was the kanji for tree and etched on the other side, the next lines of the poem.

"A bridge laden with serpent. Only the fearless may pass," he said at length as the meaning of the characters came easily to his mind. He looked up at the quiet woman staring at nothing and frowned in annoyance. "Miko?"

He was answered with silence, only furrowing his brow. He called several more times, finally drawing her from her daze.

"Yes, Sesshoumaru-sama?"

"The poem."

"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry. I was just—"

"Indeed," he interrupted and gestured to the seal he held in his hand. With a fresh flush on her cheeks, she walked over to the demon's side and peered at the writing on the wood.

"A king without hope. His children stolen by night. A hero must choose."

"A palace beneath the waves. Of white marble and crystal.

"Fiery eyes wait. Slipping down from the mountains. Kiss of arrow slays."

With the final words spoken, the seal shattered into blue, sparkling dust falling away from tai youkai's hand. A strange glow of morning light poured from the windows and the cracks in the door of the neighbor's house, beckoning them.

"Shall we?" Kagome asked softly.

Sesshoumaru nodded in agreement and together they went to the waiting house. Sliding it easily, the school girl opened the door and eagerly stepped into the bright light. Pausing a moment to look over his shoulder, the youkai lord looked back on the prison of his ancestor and smiled mildly. Then without any further thought, he stepped into the light as well.


	23. Bouncing on Dragons

Chapter Twenty-Three: Bouncing on Dragons

The biteless, warm embrace of a summer morning greeted Kagome as she stepped through the door, gladly leaving the chilly touch of autumn behind her. A smile grew on her lips as her brightening eyes explored the sprawling landscape around her. Towering ahead was the steep, rocky rise of a mountain, its peak reaching high into the sharp azure of the clear sky. Jutting outcrops cluttered its slopes, clutches of trees twisted and warped by the wind nestled within them. The dead, empty limbs of fall were the nature of the trees before her, but as her gaze traveled up, they soon took on the downy, pink blossoms of spring and at the crest, the rich greens of summer. Carved into the face, a narrow set of earthen stairs ascended, subtly snaking around the boulders and up past the summit. A curious breeze brushing against the skin of her legs under her skirt caught her attention, unfortunately drawing her sight down to her feet.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the strangely solid air beneath her and beyond that, the thick, coiling wisps of clouds floating in the distance. Peeking between their vaporous tendrils was the honey and brown of a deep canyon and the thin, gray ribbon of a meandering river at its bottom. The school girl stood motionless, her mind easily conjuring what a wrong step would likely result in. She did though take some solace in that she would have ample time to curse out everyone she needed to before she met her unlucky and rather flattening end.

"Move, miko," a familiar baritone ordered from behind her as she heard the welcome arrival of the soft rustling of silk.

"What if I fall?" she exclaimed, gesturing to the openness around her.

"You will not fall."

"That's easy for you to say. You can float at will."

"I will carry you then," he said with a faint sigh, reaching towards her.

"No, no, no," Kagome quickly answered excitedly, her feet unexpectedly finding the courage to move. A fall to her death suddenly seemed pleasant next to the embarrassment of being tossed over his shoulder again. "I'm going. I'm going."

"Good."

She moved hesitantly at first, her slow, bouncing steps carrying her across the cushioning air towards the nearby ledge at the base of the stairs. But, by the end, she was grinning unabashedly and taking long, deep strides to spring even higher on her invisible net of bubbles. Then finally, she landed with a pout on the disappointingly firm rock of the outcrop. The tai youkai followed her joylessly, easily deciding to use his aforementioned ability to fly. Sesshoumarus do not bounce.

Settled on the hard ground, they approached the earthen steps that cut harshly into the mountain. More worried about being left behind by the swifter youkai than running into any danger, Kagome quickly brushed past him to take the lead in the first of many steps. Traveling in a comfortable silence, they scaled the stairs with little trouble, their eyes often wandering to the surrounding mountain ranges, the seemingly liquid detail resembling that of a beautiful watercolor painting instead of real rock and earth.

"Is there any scent here," the school girl asked after a long moment, her hand reaching as it often did to the rocky wall, steadying her on the precarious climb. She heard a long, light sniff behind her.

"No," he replied finally, satisfied with his answer. "It would seem Shiro-sama's power does not reach here."

"Shiro-sama's power?"

"As you likely heard," he pointedly remarked, alluding to her eavesdropping when he and Shiro had spoken earlier while he crafted the mortar, "When the first travelers entered this scroll, they unleashed his youkai strength. He has since been using it to weaken the magic that binds him here." He finished with a slight smirk of admiration. "Not many can hold sway against the power of a god."

"So, he was responsible for the few scents that existed in the story?"

"Yes, and is likely the reason we appeared in our true forms to his eyes. The neighbor and the villagers only saw us as the old man and his old wife."

"He really is amazing."

"He is the lord of my clan."

"Too true," she laughed and then sobered to a soft smile. "It's hard to believe though..."

"Hmm?"

"It's just that... despite how powerful Shiro-sama is, why would Susanou create a scroll with seven fairy tales to imprison one tai youkai in a single story?"

"That question has crossed my mind as well," he answered with a frown. "But we have learned too little to surmise the answer."

With the next few steps, they crested the mountain, their conversation ending with the stairs. Spread below them was a massive valley with a shimmering, blue lake at its center. Flecks of white sunlight reflected across its broad surface and rich green conifers bordered its shores, radiating up the steep sides of the valley, their usually tall stature dwarfed in comparison. On the far side, dark and sinister, a charred black mountain loomed, overlooking the lake with an almost ill intent.

"Do you know the fairy tale?" Sesshoumaru asked after a space of time, his sight shifting to the young woman at his side.

"A bridge laden with serpent. Only the fearless may pass," Kagome repeated the first lines thoughtfully. "But, I don't know of any stories about snakes and bridges."

"Hn," he snorted and began to step down the slightly worn path leading into the waiting forest. "We shall know when we find the bridge then."

OOOOOOOOOO

Stepping on the soft beds of needles and gazing up at the dappled boughs above her, the forest felt unerringly like the one in the Kintaro legend, drawing Kagome's thoughts back to the first story. It seemed like an eternity had come and gone since then. How long have they been trapped? What were Inuyasha and everyone else doing right now? They were probably searching for her, but that was if time was even passing for them.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?"

"Yes?"

"How long do you think we've been in here?"

"I do not know. Time moves strangely here."

"Shiro-sama said his last visitors came sixty years ago."

"Hn."

"What?"

"Shiro-sama does not know of time outside his story, miko. Here, he can only measure his deaths. He has died sixty years worth of deaths since his last visitors. What that means outside of this realm is impossible to know.

"Oh," she murmured, her curiosity suddenly sidelined by another pressing thought. "Who do you think it was that came to him then?"

"My father," the tai youkai answered with a soft sigh, unable to think of a reason to deny her the truth.

"Really?" she nearly exclaimed, unable to suppress her excitement.

"Yes."

"Who do you think was with him?"

"More than likely, no one you need to concern yourself with."

"You're no fun," she pouted.

"I believe I can live without that," he replied uncaringly, then gave her a brief glare that begrudgingly sent her protruding tongue back into her mouth.

"You know—"

"Hush, miko," he interrupted sternly, his voice dulling to a near whisper. She flushed hot with anger with an objection pressing at her lips, but his wary looks into the forest and the more intent stares towards the nearing bend of the broadening path quieted her brimming rage.

As they cautiously closed the distance, she could see the brilliant red of an easy-arching bridge through the thinning trees, linking the banks of a wide river. Then her mouth dropped. Dozing across it, laid the largest, most magnificent dragon she had ever seen.

They slipped behind a thick clump of bushes, peering over the top at the giant serpent. It was draped leisurely over the length of the bridge, its teal tail and orange flourish of fin at the tip, not unlike a burning flame was coiled around a distant post at one end and his heavy, red-maned head lay settled on the final planks closest to them. A gust of wind picked up, waving the dapple shade of the overhanging branches over its aquamarine body, a few scales shivering unhappily at the cool touch of the breeze. Creaking under the strain, the bridge complained loudly as the beast twisted its upper body onto its back, revealing the light yellow of its long, horizontal, belly scales. The rest of it stayed unnaturally upright except for its head, which now only the crest of its cream-colored chin could be seen, the rest hidden by the short, red beard bordering around its muzzle. The long tendrils of the two vermillion feelers that protruded below his blue, camel nose hung down in coils on the ground. Sparks of floating embers shot out in soft puffs from the creature's nose and maw as it sighed the comfortable breaths of slumber.

"A bridge laden with serpent. Only the fearless may pass," Kagome mumbled, her mind at work. "Not a snake, but a dragon."

"So it would seem," the youkai lord answered boredly, beginning to wonder why he was even hiding from the beast. He had slain dragon-like youkai with ease in the past. What trouble would the real creature be?

"A king without hope. His children stolen by night. A hero must choose," she said shaking her head in disbelief. "It has to be him."

"Who?"

"The dragon king," she said with finality and then looked over at the unimpressed demon at her side. "I can't think of anyone else it could be."

"Who is the dragon king?"

"He's from the fairy tale called My Lord o' Bag of Rice. The human son of a lord goes out in search of fame and fortune before he is set to take over his father's lands. He comes to a bridge with a dragon sleeping across it. Knowing there is not another way to cross the river for many miles, the man attempts to slip pass the serpent. Unfortunately, no matter where he goes, he's blocked by the beast. So he steps on the animal, waking it. Wa-wait, where are you going?"

"I am going to step on it," the tai youkai answered as he rose to his feet, scowling as he brushed away the leaves and debris that had caught on his clothes while he knelt.

"Are you out of your mind? You can't just go step on him?"

"Why not?"

"He's the dragon king!"

"And?"

"And, well," she stalled weakly, "There is a possibility that he might not be the dragon king."

"You said it was."

"I might be wrong, I mean. The dragon in the story laid across the bridge width wise. This one doesn't even have to do that to block the way. Maybe this is another story where if you step on the dragon, it wakes up and eats you. Have you thought of that? Either one of us would fit quite well in that mouth of his."

"I'm going."

"Wait—"

The youkai lord was no longer at her side, but casually strolling toward the serpent. She watched apprehensively as he approached it, pausing to take a moment to consider the very large animal before him. He gathered a lock of hair in his hand while he thought, toying with it absently. Kagome watched on in potential horror, the idea of the dragon quickly snapping up the pondering tai youkai seeming not all that farfetched a concept to imagine. "Damn it," she tried to both yell and whisper, managing a garbled mix of the two, "At least draw your sword."

Sesshoumaru shrugged unconcerned and then nudged the beast in the nose with his boot. The school girl quickly closed her eyes and covered her ears, expecting the sickening crunch of the dragon's jaws on the tasty youkai morsel before them, but instead she was greeted with the loud rumble as the serpent yawned, its fork tongue curling and its white fangs glinting harmlessly before it shut its mouth in satisfaction. The unexpected spectacle was swiftly followed by the disappointed snort from the still very alive and well, yet distinctly unimpressed demon.

Not intending to be thwarted so easily, the youkai lord leapt onto its chin, walked down its jaw and along its long, exposed throat. He paused by the comparatively short forearms that hung comfortably in the air at the beast's sides, the black claws of its talons curled slightly. Thinking this was as good a place as any, he jumped.

"What are you doing?" she yelled at the tai youkai as he continued to bounce on the dragon's belly, much to his own consternation. He really did loathe the lack of dignity associated with such an act.

"I am attempting to wake it."

"Don't jump on it," she called out to him in exasperation. "You're just going to piss him off. What are you going to do if he wakes up and wants to kill you? He's bigger than you are, even when, when you're, you know, big."

"I have slain larger beasts than this without trouble," he responded, annoyed by her lack of confidence. "No matter if I was "big" or not."

"Well, then what about me," she exclaimed, rising to her feet. "I can't fight something that big. I can't even dodge something that big."

"The only thing you cannot dodge, miko, is a kiss," he remarked impassively, inwardly pleased at the dig. "I doubt it will attempt to do that, although I would not be entirely surprised if it did."

"How dare you!" she roared, storming up to the face of the dragon to glare at the demon still hopping about as gracefully as possible a ways down its body. "It's not my fault that everyone keeps kissing me when I don't expect it. I mean, what the hell is wrong with the people here? First, I get spanked by a stupid rabbit. Then the princess kisses me for no reason.

"Miko."

"I don't even like girls. Then you almost kissed me, which was very inappropriate of you, by the way.

"Miko."

"And then Shiro-sama did it, which I can almost understand. Fifteen hundred years is a long time to go without, not that I ever think about that sort of thing."

"Miko."

"What?" she answered finally, breathing heavily and contentedly. This particular rant had been pending for some time.

"Look."

Confused, she followed his line of sight down to her brown loafers and the unhappily waving feeler pinned beneath one of them. Her gaze then traveled up to the prostrate face of the serpent as the narrowing slit of its red eye focused on her.

"Shit."


	24. The Dragon King

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Dragon King

Kagome stood motionless before the waking serpent, her body unwilling to move. A crimson glare, bright as spilt blood held her sight steadfastly, stealing her thoughts and stilling her words. A low rumble from the dragon's throat shook the ground, like the crashing of waves on a shore, startling her to breathe when she had scarcely realized she had stopped. Then the bridge creaked and whined as it slowly untwisted its body from its comfortable position in slumber, its eyes never wavering from hers.

"Se-Sessh-ou," she murmured weakly, finding her voice shattered under the weight of the creature's overwhelming presence and then burnt away by the heat and floating embers of its breath as it washed over her. It steadied itself on short, teal legs, its blackened claws digging mercilessly into the wooden planks of the bridge.

"Hmm, as I thought," a deep voice remarked imperturbably and the silver and red of the tai youkai appeared between the golden antlers upon the dragon's head, seemingly mindless of the evil aura pouring off of the great beast that coiled and churned beneath his feet. The suddenness of his voice broke the school girl from her petrified stare and a cool wave of relief coursed through her. She wasn't alone. He was still here.

"What do you mean?" she asked as she caught her breath, her heart thumping in her chest and her eyes carefully avoiding the red stare of the serpent she was nearly brushed up against.

"You are the lord; therefore you are the only one who could wake it."

"Then-then, why did you go kick it in the nose and jump on top of it?" she asked incredulously.

"It seemed a better option than cowering behind a bush," he replied with a shrug. "A sleeping dragon offers little threat."

"And a wakened one?"

"It would seem that a bit more prudence would be wise," he commented with a slight smirk and then disappeared from atop the creature's head. He landed lightly behind Kagome and furrowed his brow, a scowl growing on his face. "Was the dragon king evil in the legend?"

"No, not that I can remember," she answered, gulping her breath. "You can feel it now, right? The evil. The evil in its eyes and murder on its mind."

He nodded silently.

"Perhaps it is due to your foot's choice of location?"

"Eh?" she murmured questioningly, letting her sight fall to her shoes. Still pinned angrily under her loafer was the steadily tapping feeler impatiently waiting to be released. Quickly, she lifted her foot and it slipped away to drift in the air by the rising head of the dragon. "I'm sorry about stepping on your, uh... moustache?"

The dragon stared at her malevolently; its blood red eyes shining brilliantly even in the full sun above the tree tops. With a deafening roar that quaked and cracked the very earth they stood upon, it opened its maw, revealing dazzling rows of long, ivory teeth and a building fiery glow down its throat.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?" Kagome whispered feebly, her eyes wide with fear and her body shaking as she felt herself slowly sinking to the ground. She had fought many demons in the past, unblinkingly facing them down the shaft of her arrow or under fire rat fur. At times she had faced them without anything, but the courage of her heart and the will to do what was right. It had always been enough, even in the presence of someone as evil and warped as Naraku. Now, though, as her breath seized in her lungs, choking her of air, it all seemed like nothing. All of it, but a shadow of terror. She looked up at the crimson eyes and the death that waited eagerly behind them. It was real terror looming above her, piercing her with its stare as it slowly readied its breath for her end. "Se-Sessh—"

"I know," the tai youkai interrupted softly, wrapping his hand around her waist, his eyes never leaving the dragon's jaws and the flickering flame leaking from its corners.

Then it came, a tortured roar that sounded like barbs of rage and pain twisted together as the fire erupted from its throat and blew back, consuming its massive body in a fiery tornado. The hot wind whipped violently in the air as the funnel of flames coiled around the serpent, swallowing it mercilessly. After a moment, the roaring ceased, leaving only the quiet crackling of the fire as it slowly died down. Finally, only a few embers remained, swirling around a single figure, his shoulders hunched and his face hidden under a cascade of long, spiky red hair.

Slowly, he raised his head, pushing his broad shoulders back to stand proudly. Heavy, samurai armor made of aquamarine scales and accented with gold trim and horns weighted his body. Under it, he wore black hakama pants and haori coat, his sleeves dipped in a red design of swirling dragons. Blacker than his clothes, his nails sought his hair, pulling the long locks away from his face to let them fall back behind his head, leaving the shorter ones behind. Indecipherable, a grin or a grimace spread across his lips, revealing his white fangs and he opened his crimson eyes, his gaze falling on the travelers standing before him.

"You have woken me," the man stated, his voice deep and smooth, like a crackling flame and his stare focused on Kagome, still held warily by the watchful youkai lord.

"Ye-yes," she stuttered, feeling her strength returning to her as the enveloping, evil aura dissipated in the air. "I-I didn't mean to. It was an accident."

"I see."

"A-are you the dragon king?"

He smirked unquestionably, a fang clipping his lip.

"Are you a young lord who wished to cross the bridge even if it meant stepping on the terrifying beast that dozed there?" he returned her question with another.

"I-I am."

"Then I am the Dragon King of the Lake," he replied with a bow, drawing a courteous bow in return from the school girl who had since been released by the tai youkai. The Dragon King eyed the other figure curiously, noting only one bow from the two people who stood before him. "I have a request of you, good lord who has shown such bravery and I hope you will find it in your heart to grant it."

"If I can, I will. Please tell me."

"I wish for you to kill my enemy, the Centipede, who lives on the mountain beyond the lake."

"The mountain?" Kagome asked quietly, turning around to look towards the lake. Far across the smooth plane of water lay the charred mountain, blackened by fire.

"I have lived with my children in my castle under the lake for many years," he continued, his voice strangely wistful, before darkening into a quiet anger. "One day, the Centipede who lives on that mountain found my home and has since every night slipped into it to steal one of my children to fill its belly."

"Why do you not fight it?" Sesshoumaru asked impassively, his expression clearly disinterested even though he was the one who raised the question. The Dragon King glared at him for a moment, his teeth grinding and the menacing aura that surrounded him whipping up once again.

"I am powerless to stop it," he bit out as he swallowed his fury and sublimated the evilness that leaked from him. Then he returned his sight to the young lord. "You are however, stronger than I and I beseech you to slay it and spare my children from anymore pain. I cannot bear to see any more die."

"This is the story My Lord o' Bag of Rice," she whispered toward the youkai lord at her side. "There's no doubt now."

"A king without hope. His children stolen by night. A hero must choose," Sesshoumaru repeated the lines from the poem, his eyes never leaving the Dragon King. "You are the hero. What do you choose?"

"A centipede, eh," she murmured, running her hand through her hair. "Why is it always centipedes?" She looked up at him in time to catch a quirked brow of confusion marring his face at her response. "A centipede youkai is what dragged me down the well from the future into the past.

"Hn."

"You know what? Never mind."

"What will you choose?"

"Honor only allows me one path," she said with a smile. "Besides, the lord chose to save the children. If I have to follow the tale like I should, then I need to do the same."

"Indeed."

"I will slay the centipede for you," she said boldly, returning her attention to the king.

"Thank you, good lord," he answered graciously with a low bow. "The beast comes to my home every night at midnight to prey upon my children. I would be pleased if you accompanied me there now, so that you may dine and prepare until the appointed hour."

"I would be greatly honored to be your guest," she said with a bow in return.

"Your servant may join us as well," the Dragon King remarked with an easy smile, gesturing to the tai youkai who seemed like nothing more than a simple peasant to his eyes. "Naturally, it is your choice as to whether he will accompany us."

"M-my servant?" she stuttered, unwilling to see whatever expression was most likely adorning Sesshoumaru's face, but quite certain that it would not be a good one.

"Yes, yes he will be joining us. I hope."

"Very good. Follow me."

The Dragon King brushed past them with a smooth, easy gait, like a predator sure in every stride as it approached its captured prey. He slipped off the bridge and down to the rocky shore bordering it. As his red, geta sandals touched the water, the liquid parted away in a soft ripple, leaving only the silty bottom beneath his feet.

"Come," he said, looking up at them with red, gleaming eyes, "There is nothing to fear."

"You say that," Kagome muttered under her breath, feeling her legs quake under his gaze as she made her way down to the shore and stepped onto the revealed sandy bed. She was swiftly followed by the youkai lord, who to her relief, hadn't been too badly offended by his apparent role in this tale.

The lake broke away in larger waves as they walked further along its bottom, the towering walls of water at their sides growing with each step. Small crabs scuttled away before their footfalls, burying themselves in the sand while they waited for the water to return. Through the dark currents, they could see the black silhouettes of curious fish drawn to the king and his visitors as they passed. Behind them, the magic slowly relinquished its hold, closing off the way back under the quickly pooling water.

"What else do you remember of the story?" the tai youkai asked quietly behind her, his eyes never wavering from the back of the king as they walked.

"It's been a while," she answered in a hushed voice. "I only remember the beginning really well, because I always thought the guy was really stupid for stepping on the dragon."

"Hn."

"Indeed he was," the king laughed wickedly, looking over his shoulder at his two guests. "No normal dragon would have allowed such a brash fool to live. But please, continue. I will not interrupt you further." An awkward silence passed before she began again.

"Well, the king welcomed the lord to his castle under the water where they drank and ate, entertained by creatures of the lake that danced and played music for them. When midnight struck, the giant centipede appeared with glowing, fiery eyes. Ready, the lord used his bow and slew the monster by striking it in the eye with an arrow. Afterwards, the Dragon King gifts the lord with many things out of gratitude, namely a bag with a never-ending supply of rice, hence the name of the story, My Lord o' Bag of Rice."

"Hn."

"Is that how it goes?" she asked loudly, staring at the spiky, red hair flowing behind the king.

"Perhaps," he answered, "There is always more to it than that."

"Just like there is more to you?"

"Hmm?"

"The Dragon King was not evil, but you are unlike any evil I have ever met," she stated and shuddered remembering the feeling of his presence on the bridge. "So who are you? Are you a prisoner here, trapped by Susanou?"

"Me?" he answered, looking over his shoulder again, his eyes glowing eerily. "You don't really want to know. Ignorance is a sweet embrace, good lord. And one that never hugs twice. Follow the story and leave this place. There is nothing else for you here."

"I want to know."

"Even if you will regret it?"

"Yes."

"You must regret much," he said, stopping abruptly, the evil essence seeping from him again like wisps of smoke, curling around him lovingly. "It has been a while since I've thought on my name. I have been the Dragon King for so long."

"Who are you?"

"I am Yamata-no-Orochi," he answered with his grimacing smile and eyes lit brightly in the dark shadows of the water. "Know fear, good lord."


	25. The Eight-Forked Serpent

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Eight-Forked Serpent

"Yamata-no-Orochi," Kagome murmured in disbelief, her face fading to an ashen pall as she uttered the words. The Dragon King's insidious grin grew at her whispered doubt and she took several stumbling steps back until she met the familiar wall of silk and armor of the tai youkai. "You can't be him. You can't."

"I cannot, eh?" he hissed with a mix of confidence and mock pity. "How tragic. It seems that you are already regretting, good lord. But, I can assure you that I am he, the Great Eight Forked Serpent of now ancient lore." He paused a moment to slowly lick his lips, his black tongue slightly forked at the tip. "I am The Maiden Devourer."

"But-but, Yamata-no-Orochi is only a myth. He never existed."

"Is the god who created this prison only a myth as well?" he snarled, turning to face her fully as his aura flared up, rippling the walls of water surrounding him. "A brief nightmare this world would make if it were only conjured by the powers of imagination." He raised a black clawed hand, cupping it slightly before suddenly wrenching it into a fist, nails biting into his tanned skin. "How fragile it would be if it were nothing more than a storyteller's whim."

"Hn," the nearly forgotten youkai lord snorted, his expression calm and emotionless except for the hard, unwavering glare he fixed upon the king. "I know of your legend, unnatural beast. Death was your ending. How is it that you live to be here in a story that is not your own?"

The king's eyes narrowed on the seemingly human peasant before him and they matched stares. Fierce and red pitted against cool and gold, studying one another as they measured themselves against the roiling power the other held just beneath the surface. Finally, the Dragon King smirked, mysteriously satisfied.

"You press your insignificant role in this, false human," the king remarked pointedly with a knowing nod towards Sesshoumaru, "And I need not tell you that the unfortunate nature of legends is that they are forever written by the victor and therefore rarely accurate." Abruptly, he turned on his heel, resuming his trek through the parting lake, the wary travelers following him closely and with careful steps.

"I-I would like to know then," Kagome spoke up hesitantly, her voice soft and wavering. "The truth."

"You do not heed advice well, do you?"

"I guess not," she replied with a weak laugh, inwardly wondering if she would really regret asking, but she easily dismissed it. Curiosity was in her nature and so far it hadn't steered her too poorly. "Even so, I am your savior, aren't I? I think your story isn't much to give to the one who will slay the Centipede and save your children for you." A burgeoning silence filled the damp air broken only by the gentle rush of the slowly returning water at their backs.

"Hn," the king snorted finally in acquiescence, intrigued by the determined interest of his guests, "If your desire to know my tale is so great, then know it you shall. I will tell you though, that contrary to my previous words, much of my told history follows the truth, but only its beginning. In what seems like an eternity ago, my seven brothers and I were once a terrifying monster, an eight-headed and eight-tailed snake bound to each other by flesh and evil desire. Our body so massive that even coiled, we could not fit in this great valley that I now call my home.

For many years we lived atop the mountains and basins we covered, our blood-stained bellies hungering for the untasted flavor of the pure and good, for the flesh of a god. So we laid in ambush, our backs growing heavy and hidden under the moss and trees that gradually rooted upon us over time. Then at the head waters of a river we bordered on, our unsuspecting prey approached. They drew us from our light slumber, wakening our appetite with their gentle, enticing laughter. The old, earth deity couple who dwelled in the mountain from where the melted snow seeped to the river below had fallen into our trap. Smelling of virtue, they were truly good gods and we swiftly coiled around them and poised for our strike, unwilling to let such a rare opportunity to slip away. With no chance for escape, the couple begged fervently for their lives, but we however remained indifferent to their pleas. Too long we had waited and too wicked were we for such admirable notions as compassion or pity. Then in their desperation and our delight, they shamelessly offered the eldest of their eight daughters for our appeasement. Quickly, we agreed and the young maiden was presented to my eldest brother, the delicious crunch of her bones satiating his hunger and the soothing trickling of her blood quenching his thirst."

The Dragon King paused in his story and closed his eyes as his memory dwelled on the innocent girl so easily given away and he smiled evilly as he thought of her fear and anguished cries before her abrupt end in the silencing jaws of his brother. Kagome shrank away at his pleased countenance, her stomach turning and her throat aching. Whether it was at the girl's likely despair before her death or at the serpent's likely pleasure in her terror, she did not know.

"Eager to taste another," he continued, "We preyed upon their weak will and required that in a year's time to be presented with another daughter or else we would return and consume them all. Naïve as they were, the couple agreed believing only one more child would fall victim to our cravings. But, we were eight brothers and two maidens are far from satisfying, so a year later and after my second eldest sibling ate his fill, we continued our demands and so on for another six years until only one daughter remained and with her our demise."

"Susanou," Kagome whispered, still feeling queasy.

"Yes," he answered venomously, his eyes flaring brilliantly as he thought on the name and what it meant. "We had become complacent in our good fortune. A fair goddess filling each of our bellies and at last it would be my turn to taste the final savory maiden, for I was the youngest of my brethren. Seven years I had waited, envying my siblings as they each received their prize and now my time had come.

We made our way to the head of the river, anticipating the mourning couple and their last and most beautiful daughter. However, what awaited us was a great platform of stone with eight, great troughs filled with the sweetest smelling sake, all distilled eight times. An arrogant beast we were with purity as our weakness and such a rich drink after a long journey was simply too much to resist. So we dipped our heads in and drank, draining the vats of their liquor. After they were licked dry, we laid our heads down to contentedly sleep away our drunkenness, unaware of the danger lurking in a forest nearby.

When I awoke, my brothers were slain. Their once proud, maned heads severed from their necks, slashed and shredded by a crude blade. Their long tails carved and split and our greatest treasure, the great sword Kusa-nagi no Tachi stolen from my eldest brother's tail." The king looked over his shoulder, anger and anguish haunting his expression. "There is no pain like biting into and gnawing away the dead flesh of your dear brothers so that you may escape the same fate that they share. The taste of their bitter blood still lingers in my mouth, reminding me of what I had lost that day."

"You were lucky. Susanou missed you."

"Ha," the king laughed sourly, "Susanou does not miss anything, particularly when you are unfortunate enough to be his enemy. To be honest, I have thought a thousand times on why I lived when my brothers fell at his cowardly blade, yet still I know not why he spared me. Were he a just god like his sister and brother, I would say he did it, because I was innocent, for no maiden blood ever touched my lips. However, the god of thunder, the god of evil is not so virtuous. In the end, I believe he left me to live, so that I may suffer the loss of my brothers, like the couple and their last daughter suffered the loss of their family. On me he laid the crushing guilt of survival and the empty torture of loneliness."

"What happened after that?"

"I hid away in a deep cave to embrace my solitude, leaving occasionally to seek enough food to survive. Years bled by as I slept, remaining but a shadow of my former glory with the savory taste of evil deeds having lost their flavor with the passing of my brethren. And there I would have stayed until the end of time claimed me; however it would seem that that spiteful god had other designs for my fate."

"He imprisoned you here," Kagome commented pensively, tapping her lip lightly. "But, why in the story of My Lord o' Bag of Rice? It's not your story."

"The old earth gods," Sesshoumaru replied before the Dragon King could respond, eliciting a grimacing smile from him.

"Hn," the king snorted, "It seems you understand the irony quite well, false human. What crueler role to place the greatest evil of the world than in the part of a desperate father unable to protect his brood, a fate not unlike the one of the old, earth couple he had wronged in the past by eating their children. Appropriately, the true Dragon King was a pathetic waste of a beast, weak and passive. Though he begged the human lord for the lives of his children, it was his own that he feared to lose the most, because when the last of his children were swallowed, it would be his turn to die."

"And like the earth couple, you as the Dragon King must ask for aid from a human, a concealed god or not."

"If the Centipede were not protected by the power of Susanou, I would slay it myself. Instead, I must follow the tale and rely on an arrow shot by you." His crimson eyes began to shimmer eerily. "Pray you do not fail me."

The rising waves of the parting lake before them suddenly stopped, ending in a sheer wall of water. Dragon King paused in his step, raising a hand against the stayed currents, the liquid flowing gently against his open palm. Thin tendrils of his menacing aura seeped out of his chest, curling around his extended arm and into his hand.

"A palace beneath the waves. Of white marble and crystal," he spoke at length and with a firm voice, focusing the energy in his glowing hand and with the final word uttered, a massive vibration rippled the water around him. A long moment passed emptily as they waited, then slowly the water churned. Thundering as they built and crashed, great, frothing waves sloshed to and fro as the exposed lake bed spread before them.

Gradually the water receded away, revealing a beautiful, white castle of smooth stone. Raised on gleaming alabaster stairs, the broad, ivory towers stood proudly in the bright sunlight. Their square roofs, curling elegantly up at the corners, glittered brilliantly with crystal tiles, their gentle hues touching every color of the rainbow.

"Wow," the school girl muttered breathlessly, "This is your castle?"

"Yes," the king replied with a smirk. "Come, good lord. You will need your rest before your battle."

He stepped away before she could answer, walking down the many white shells that made up the path leading to the palace steps. At the crest of the distant stairs, seven tiny, red-headed figures appeared, huddled together apprehensively as they whispered to one another. One bare head perked up higher than the others and the small boy squealed in delight.

"Father!" he called out, leaving his siblings behind as he raced down the steps, his sea green coat and pants fluttering around him as he sprang. His enthusiasm and courage contagious, the others swiftly followed, as they whooped and giggled with glee. Then in one chaotic mass of red hair and teal clothing, they collided with the Dragon King, clambering over his armor and clothing, each seeking a hold and a perch. The king both laughed and scolded them as they found their chosen places on him and prattled on about their day filled with mischief and play.

"So that is why Akane has no hair," the king remarked in amusement, reaching up to rub the bald head of the son straddled high up on his back, his thin arms clinging dearly around his neck.

"It wasn't fair," Akane blurted out accusingly, "They did it while I was asleep, father."

"Do not worry, boy. It will grow back by tomorrow," he said soothingly, giving him a gentle pat on the head. "You will have ample opportunity to return the favor. And to all of them."

"And I will," he yelled seethingly, stifling the tears that threatened to flow as the other boys giggled in response.

"Let's go, father!" another boy implored, settled up high on his shoulder armor.

"But, you are all so heavy. Even without the added weight of Akane's hair, I am not sure if I can climb those high steps."

"Father!" they complained in unison.

"Very well, I will try," he acquiesced, grinning at their answering cheers.

Slowly and stiffly, he walked toward the waiting stairs, stepping upon each step with great, mock effort, much to his sons' well-voiced dismay. Kagome looked on, unable to suppress the growing smile coming to her lips at the spectacle.

"He doesn't seem very evil anymore, does he?" she finally remarked, casting a glance at the solemn tai youkai at her back.

"Hn."

"What?"

"Seven sons," he replied evenly, "Not unlike seven brothers."

"I didn't even notice," she murmured.

"Miko."

"Hmm?"

"Be wary," he warned as he stepped past her towards the castle. "All creatures care for their young, for their family and the intelligent ones may even love their children. Whether they are good or evil does not matter for love does not change the fundamental nature of the beast. Do not forget it, especially here."

She opened her mouth to respond, but found nothing to say. In silence, together they followed the child-laden king, into the great, white palace of marble and crystal.


	26. Prison of Morality

Chapter Twenty-Six: Prison of Morality

Anxiously biting her lip, Kagome peeked in through the dark opening of the heavy, parted door centered in the silver framed entrance. The Dragon King and his giggling cargo had disappeared within the great, white castle a few moments earlier, taking little heed of the two guests still following cautiously a short distance away on the sea shell path. She looked back over her shoulder at the tall, imperturbable youkai and shrugged.

"I guess we just go in," she remarked, her sight lingering on his stoic expression, studying it for a vague hint of agreement.

"Hn," he snorted, "Proceed, miko. I doubt he will be returning."

She nodded and stepped hesitantly through the doorway into the dim room. With walls and floors of white marble, the broad entryway was cut in half by a single stair before a waiting hallway at the other end. Beneath the step and haphazardly strewn were seven, black pairs of sandals. Amid them and perfectly arranged to point outside were the larger red, geta sandals of the Dragon King.

Drawn from her amused thoughts on the undisciplined, yet enthusiastic dragon princes that plagued the orderly castle, Kagome heard a strange rustling at her back. Kneeling elegantly behind her was the tai youkai, meticulously unfastening the straps of his black boots. He slipped each one off, revealing the dark, tabi socks he wore underneath them. When he was finished, he set them to perfectly face the entrance now turned exit of the castle. Once he was satisfied with their placement, he looked up and caught the stunned expression of the school girl, which furrowed his brow in return.

"I-I'm sorry," she quickly asserted under his glare and followed with a soft, embarrassed laugh, "I just didn't think you ever took those boots off. Well, at least not before walking into someone's house."

"Politeness is not something I lack," he remarked with a slight edge as he rose and then stepped up the stair, moving toward the ivory glow of the hallway. "Not all though deserve such respect." With that he vanished around the corner, leaving Kagome to hastily kick off her brown loafers before chasing after him.

Together, they walked through the labyrinth of halls and corridors in silence, absorbed by the exotic beauty that surrounded them. The rice paper walls framed with ebony wood glimmered in a myriad of subtle hues, the timid, swirling colors of mother-of-pearl. In the washed out gray and red tones of watercolor, a variety of fish decorated the panels. Many were graceful koi appearing to enjoy the soft shallows they were painted in, but one unusual fish caught the school girl's gaze.

"An angler fish?" she half asked under her breath, pausing by the oddly shaped fish with large teeth.

"Hmm, it would seem so," the youkai lord replied impassively with a frown and then nodded toward the bright glow at the end of a line protruding from its head. "The light."

"Yeah," she murmured, her eyes drifting down the length of the wall to find a similar radiance a few steps away, "So, these are the lamps and their reflections on the wall light our way." Sure of her reasoning, Kagome's sight returned to the fish before her. Despite being nothing more than an element of a mural, its liquid brushstrokes seemed to undulate under the slow flickering flame of its lure, snaring her curiosity. Tempted by the glow, she hesitantly reached up with her finger to feel the tiny ball of light.

"Eep," she suddenly squeaked in surprise as the hall went black, the multitudes of fish on the walls fleeing at her delicate touch rippling the thin surface of the rice paper.

"Hn."

"Sorry."

Gradually the light returned as the fish slowly swam back from the dark edges of the panels. They eyed the visitors cautiously as they settled in their places on the wall, some flitting to and fro nervously before calming enough to find their spot.

"Are you finished?" Sesshoumaru asked with a raised brow.

"Uh, yeah," she answered with a fleeting smile.

"Good," he remarked coolly, making her cheeks flush in embarrassment over her erring inquisitiveness. A smirk formed on his lips at her response, but it quickly faded as a faint sound caught his attention. His eyes narrowed as he turned to face the distant end of the shadowy corridor they had yet to pass through.

"What is it?" Kagome asked sheepishly with her face still slightly pink.

"Music."

"Music?" she repeated, straining her ears in the quiet of the castle, hoping to hear what the tai youkai could listen to with ease. She frowned in defeat. "I can't hear it. What does it sound like?"

Much to her surprise, the demon had already begun to walk down the length of the remaining hallway, leaving her behind yet again. From embarrassed to annoyed, the school girl caught up in a few hurried strides, tempted to ask her ignored question once more when a soft, ethereal tune dulled her anger and answered it for her.

"A shamisen," she said quietly, recognizing the faint, haunting strums of the slender, three-stringed guitar. Each lingering note sent a shiver up her spine, speaking a melody of pain and emptiness without a single word being spoken. Then her breath caught. Starting achingly soft and rising in chilling harmony, a beautiful, sorrowful voice joined the poignant song.

Her eyes growing glossy, Kagome's throat choked up at the moving music that both drew and repelled her. She wanted to console the heart that could carry such a desperate melody so alluringly, but she feared the hurt that echoed behind it, threatening to trap forever any who strayed too close.

The hall ended in a white, sliding door edged in silver and the tai youkai stepped forward, grasping the shallow, etched handle. It slid open fluidly, stopping with a light tap at the end of the groove as it revealed a large, dining hall. Ivory, tatami mats lined the floor, each one framed in the reflecting sheen of mother-of-pearl. Strings of small, glowing globes hung in regular clumps on the marble walls, illuminating the broad room in a silvery radiance. Several of the lights hung near an alcove midway along the room and there as if swimming in the air were the elegant forms of two mermaids.

Floating above the floor ever so slightly, they knelt humbly on their brilliantly white tails splotched with vivid reds and blacks. With white, painted faces and full, blood red lips, they looked up at the visitors with dark eyes shadowed with burgundy. Bound in soft loops upon their heads, their ebony hair was decorated with white, dangling shells of varying shapes. Dyed in floral patterns of red and black, their kimonos hung elegantly over their figures, ending at the wide, silver, obi sash just beneath their breasts and just above the scales of their tails. The long sleeves of their dresses draped to the floor and the pale arms and bright red nails of one could be seen as she cradled a shamisen and its wedge-shaped pick delicately in her hands.

"Welcome, good lord," the smooth, crackling voice of the king called out from the opposite end of the room. Like a lone flame in a field of snow, the Dragon King sat casually on a mat before a small, black table. He smiled his grimacing grin and raised a hand to beckon them. "You must forgive my rudeness. I am used to the conjured lords who know the way. The music I hope helped to guide you here."

"Yes, we heard it," Kagome responded as she stepped towards the king, noticing two other sets of similar mats and tables near him. "It was very... beautiful. Sad, but beautiful."

"Hmm," the king murmured, stroking his chin with a black claw-tipped hand. "The geishas know the heart of who they play for and they reflect in song what they hear."

"Who do they play for?"

"Why don't you and your servant come and sit," he swiftly deflected, gesturing to the two other tables before him. "Our meal will be served shortly."

With a slight bow, the school girl conceded her question and knelt down behind one of the tables with the youkai lord following suit at the table next to her, choosing to only instead sit cross legged rather than to be seated on his knees.

A door slid open a moment later and three more mermaids floated in, flicking their fins as they glided towards them with their delicate arms balancing fragile dishes of crystallized lotus leaves and flowers. They set down the vibrant plates and bowls on each table, laying out a sumptuous feast of fish, vegetables and rice and then returned to the sliding door, closing it behind them. Kagome felt her stomach grumble at the sight of the food, secretly wishing she could smell the likely aromas wafting in the light steam. She picked up the fine, ebony chopsticks set next to her meal and pressed her hands together with a clap.

"Itadakimasu," she proclaimed in thanks, her gleeful tone fading as she realized she was the only one giving the praise. Her gaze traveled over to the solemn demon at her side and the untouched, cooling food before him. His arm tucked into his sleeve and his intense, golden eyes shimmering, Sesshoumaru sat quietly watching the Dragon King in aloof silence. Following his gaze, she too settled her sight on the king and his barren table, save for a long, black pipe resting on its smooth surface.

"Are you not eating?" she asked no one in particular as she deftly plucked at the fish fillet with her chopsticks and dipped the meat into a sauce.

"I do not care for this food," the Dragon King replied, leisurely picking up his empty pipe and brought it before his lips. "But, do not let my distaste keep you from your meal. I wish for you to be in good spirits before your battle."

"On't woowy," Kagome mumbled happily with the light coral tail of a shrimp protruding from her mouth.

"Very well," he chuckled darkly, puffing out vaporous wisps of smoke from his unlit pipe.

"Where are your children?"

"They eat elsewhere as this is a dining hall for adults. They would be quickly bored here regardless."

"Hm," she snorted with a smile as she thought on the young, red-headed princes, "They're a rambunctious lot."

"Yes. I let them do as they wish. Should they grow into a rose or a weed, I do not care. I merely till the soil."

"But, they don't grow do they?"

His smile dissipated at her words and he lowered his pipe away from his mouth considering it as the overflowing smoke leaked from his lips, like tiny little dragons curling in the air before vanishing into nothingness.

"No," he sighed wistfully bringing the pipe once again to his mouth, "They are forever their ages, illusionary cellmates caught in the endless loop of this prison of morality."

"Prison of morality?" she spoke questioningly, raising a brow.

"Indeed, good lord. You do know the purpose of a fairy tale, do you not?"

"It's a story that's meant to teach the reader about values," she reasoned, sure of her response as it seemed not long ago she had to give a similar answer to a similar question. "About right and wrong."

"Especially wrong," he added with a fanged grin, his crimson eyes flaring brilliantly. "Every cell in this prison has a lesson to be learned, an injustice to be righted, a hero to be victorious and a villain to be vanquished."

"Every story? All seven?"

"Perhaps," he answered cryptically, "I cannot know what lies in the fairy tales beyond my own. Of the previous stories, I only know of what the rare few travelers like yourselves have divulged over the many years."

"Who is in the first story, the tale of Kintaro? And what of Issunboshi? Who is it in that one?"

"Ah," he chuckled mysteriously, "I shall give you a hint." Exhaling deeply, he blew out a thick coil of smoke. It floated in the air gently, subtly changing shape into the vague form of a proud stag before dissipating in the air.

"The deer from Kintaro?"

"Yes, but I do not know what his offense was. His story is before any travelers know the secret of the scroll, but his role though leaves little doubt of his lesson to be learned," he replied and then a wicked smile spread across his lips. "Ah, to spend everyday wrestling a bear, your greatest enemy. To feel his hot breath at your neck, not knowing whether this time is only play or if he really does intend to eat you. To have your life hanging on the possible happenstance of one swift bite. What could have that one time man now turned stag have done to the human Susanou to warrant such a terrifying story of humility?"

"But, he didn't wrestle with the bear in our travels through that story."

"Ah, he has gotten craftier with time. Tempting the bear with the challenge of Kintaro and spoiling his taste for any further games, at least for that day. He is not always successful and despite his wit he will forever know the crushing embrace of the bear's claws."

"And Issunboshi?"

Breathing out a dark, ashen plume, the smoke poured from the Dragon King's mouth and thickened into the figure of a statuesque man patiently pruning a small tree.

"The emperor."

"Yes," the king responded with a smirk and a nod.

"What did he do?"

"He was not an emperor in life, but a small lord with little land. His pride though was great and his treasure, a beautiful daughter. Susanou came before his court one day, hungry, dirty and begging for a station in the lord's personal guard. The fool knew not the beggar's former glory as a god and sent him away in disgust, but not before ordering his soldiers beat him for his audacity. To think he would let a nameless warrior into his leagues, let alone allow one to be responsible for the safety of himself and his precious daughter." The king laughed his evil chuckle, his red eyes shimmering. "Susanou has been gracious in his lesson. Instead of a tiny province, the emperor rules the whole of Japan now, but at what cost? The wretched man seeks refuge in his hidden garden as his conjured daughter is left with less than a nameless samurai as her guardian and carnal bandits as their company."

"It's horrible. None of them deserved this."

"Are you saying they were good and righteous? That they did not deserve to learn their lesson?"

"N-no," she stammered, "They were wrong and cruel, but—"

"When does it stop?" he interrupted, his voice smoldering as he finished her question. "When has the moral been learned? When does a necessary lesson become an unnecessary torture? When did the stag learn there is always someone stronger? When did the emperor understand that it is the strength of the warrior's heart and not his name that gives power to his sword? When did the serpent dragon know what it is to be powerless before a greater beast and have to lower himself to a lesser being in hopes to save his children?"

"When?" she gulped nervously.

"Long ago," he answered softly, "Our sins were burnt away long ago."


	27. Chopsticks

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Chopsticks

The sliding door slipped open, interrupting their conversation with its soft scrape as it glided down the track. Two mermaids appeared, each with a small, concave tray shaped like a scallop shell in their hands. Balanced delicately on the shell's faintly rippled surface was a slender, ceramic bottle and beside it a shallow cup. They each paused by a traveler, gracefully tucking their tails beneath their bodies as they drifted down to kneel beside them. Gently, they set the warm bottles and cups onto the small tables, minding the still filled plates of food.

"The geishas have brought you a warm drink to compliment your meal," the king spoke up as the mermaids finished settling themselves and waited expectantly for their guests to pick up their conical cup so that they may be served.

"Sake?" Kagome asked reluctantly, staring at the thin wisps of steam wafting from the narrow opening at the top of the bottle.

"Of course," the Dragon King replied, bringing his pipe to his lips again. "I would serve you nothing but the best."

"You won't have any?"

"No, I have not drunk a single drop since my brothers died. Its appeal dried up in those stone vats along with their blood."

The school girl nodded in agreement, her sight lingering on her bottle as she considered the drink before her. She felt herself hesitate, yet it wasn't the idea of drinking sake that stilled her hand from reaching for her cup. Often in the Sengoku Jidai while they traveled from village to village in their hunt for the shards, she and the group would stay at an elder's home to rest and have dinner. In this time she was not a child, but a young woman and it would be rude of her to refuse the custom because in the future she was not old enough. Sake was a bit too strong and heavy for her palette, but it had a saccharine taste that appealed to her. Still, she thought, her eyes glancing up at the king. 'So many years had passed and yet how much pain and anguish did he carry with him that even a sweet drink like sake would sour in his mouth now?'

"Are you not thirsty?" he questioned, his crimson eyes watching her curiously as she wavered. "Do not mind my opinions if they keep you from your drink." She fidgeted under his gaze, tempted to pick up her cup and reassure him that all was well. That she wasn't thinking about how tragic and sorrowful his tale was and that the sake held no appeal to her either in the presence of someone who had lost so much at the expense of its potent flavor. She gazed back down at the bottle again, struggling to find a response, when the delicate pattern of blooming sakura branches and petals that graced it snared her interest and reminded her of someone who had been strangely absent from their discussion a moment earlier.

"Dragon-ou-sama," she began, pleased with the honorific she had thought of, "You mentioned the deer and the emperor and their past, but not the tale that comes before your own. The story of The Old Man Who Made Withered Trees Bloom."

"Hn," the Dragon King snorted indignantly as disdain and venom trickled into his tone, "Why should I? You and that mutt that serves you already know that wretched dog's story. What more needs to be said?"

"M-mutt?" Kagome repeated, her confusion faltering her voice. The mutt that serves me? Then her eyes opened wide as she followed the king's disgusted look to the glaring tai youkai at her side. Sesshoumaru sat calmly before his untried food and neglected drink, his expression emotionless save for his angry eyes which seemed to grow in intensity at the king's taunt.

"Your youki gives you away, little whelp," the Dragon King added derisively, smoke curling from his mouth. "Besides, no other outsiders seem to venture through this realm who are not the spawn of that youkai traitor."

"He's not my servant," Kagome piped in boldly, her fury brimming as she drew the king's attention away from the silent youkai lord.

"Really, but that's what dog demons do," he replied knowingly, testing the iron resolve behind her firm jaw and unwavering, sepia stare. "Kneel down before humans and serve them. It's their nature. Shiro, that martyr, would tell you so himself. After all, it's what he died for, what he became a youkai for. And now he's fated to relive his foolishness, to have his muzzle rubbed into the futility of his sacrifice."

"That was the past. He's changed and humans aren't what he dies for now."

"Oh, and what does he die for now?"

"He dies for his pups. For his children."

"Ah, yes, so, I have heard," he hissed mockingly, "A far nobler thing, to choose to die for your children and yet what a luxury it is. Even cursed as a pathetic dog, I have trouble finding pity for that beast."

"Why?" she raged at him, her voice cracking and the dam of her restraint crumbling as her anger overflowed. "You don't have to die. All you have to do is sleep on a bridge and wait for a lord to come and save your children. You don't have to bare your neck for the sake of honor! You don't have to face death! You don't even have to fight!"

"Do you have any idea what it is to be powerless, human?!" he snarled in return as his fist struck the floor with a resounding crack, fracturing the tile and startling the school girl with its ferocity. A malevolent aura spilled from him in waves and she felt her lungs seize as it billowed around her, drowning her in its wrath. "Do you know what it is to wonder if this mere lord, this fragile being before you that is more suited to be food than to be a warrior will be able to kill the great monster that threatens to steal away all that is important to you? Do you know what it means to fight the sleep that overcomes you each night fearing that your family, illusions or not, will be dead when you wake?" He rose to his feet, his blood red eyes glowing hot in the low light of the room. "I am not the Dragon King of the story, I am Yamata-no-Orochi and I know what it is to bear the burden of life. I envy that spoiled dog and the gift of death he receives every day. What I would have given to die alongside my brothers many years ago and what I would give to die for my conjured family now."

With that, the king turned his back on his guests and walked his predatory gait to the back of the room. He stepped through another sliding door into the amber light of sunset, gliding it shut behind him with a loud clap and leaving the travelers alone with the geishas in an awkward silence.

Kagome sat quietly staring at her hand in wonder as it trembled lightly, ceasing little even after the last of the Dragon King's presence dissipated in the air. He really was unlike any other evil she had ever encountered and yet, she thought, 'Despite his strength and confidence, he was so broken, so utterly crushed under the bitter, lingering weight of his past. Sure, he was angry and spiteful, but didn't he have a right to be?'

The vivid memory of a red clothed hanyou staked peacefully to a tree drifted into her mind, unwilling to be dismissed. Inuyasha had been broken too and by more than the cold, piercing shaft of a miko's arrow. Deceived by a cruel trick, he was sealed away for a crime he had not committed and perhaps the deepest wound of all, he lost the only person that meant anything to him in the process.

The soft murmur of the school girl's pride called out from deep within her chest, swelling her heart as she saw the same pain she had found in Inuyasha mirrored in the king. She was meant to help him wasn't she? To save him and his children from the Centipede, but who would save him from his own guilt? Who would save the Dragon King from himself? She could do this. After all, she had done it before.

"Where are you going, miko?" Sesshoumaru asked with a firm voice as she stood up shakily on her still unsteady legs.

"I-I'm going to talk to him," she answered truthfully, startled by the suddenness of his question and the looming disapproval behind it.

"He is not a creature to be trifled with," he remarked, his seriousness unavoidable as he locked eyes with hers. "Leave him be."

"I can't," she replied adamantly, matching his glare with one of her own. "He's innocent of doing anything wrong. He never ate any of the maidens, and yet he's being forced to be punished for the deeds of his brothers."

"Hn," he snorted, "Being innocent is not the same as being good. A good person can be guilty of horrible things and an evil one can do absolutely nothing."

"And so he deserves this?" she snapped, crossing her arms defiantly across her chest. "He deserves to be imprisoned here for no reason at all? You know, maybe you're right. Maybe someone can have a good or an evil nature, but they also have a choice. Your actions are what define you not how you were born."

"And do you believe he would not have eaten that maiden?"

"I don't believe he would eat her now, if that's what you're asking. He knows what it's like to have everything taken from him."

"Tch, pity clouds your mind with foolishness," the tai youkai remarked in mild distaste, a scowl gracing his features, "And your reckless compassion will be your undoing."

"It's not pity and I'm not being recklessly compassionate," she reasoned angrily, irate at the unspoken implications of his comment. She knew what reckless compassion was and she had learned her lesson with the bandits. "I'm meant to save him and his children."

"From the Centipede, yes, but not from themselves. And even with that, that beast does not want your help. He only needs it."

"What's the difference?" she fumed, freeing an arm to gesture furiously.

"You know what it is to be saved, do you not?" he asked harshly. "To have another rescue you from danger? To take responsibility for your life? Are you pleased when it happens? Do you appreciate it?"

"I am not always pleased when it happens, but I do appreciate it," she admitted, somewhat content with her answer. She had been rescued countless times at this point, but not once could she remember not appreciating it.

"And if you were to lose your arm and another leant you his in its place, would you still appreciate it?"

"O-Of course," she answered, her voice wavering in uncertainty at the goal of the demon's line of questions.

"Very well," he said coolly, before he vanished, the table and dishes before him rattling quietly from the force of his movement. Then at her back, she felt the hard leather of his armor as he suddenly knocked her knees out from beneath her body. With expert ease, his hand reached down to her stomach, supporting her as she fell gently onto her shins and then slid to her right arm, gripping it firmly.

"What are you doing?!" she yelled in shocked surprise as he knelt down against her and bent her arm behind her back, anchoring it there with his knee pressing firmly against her elbow. Swiftly before she could respond, he leaned forward with his now free right arm, resting it over her shoulder as he used the back of his upper arm to press her body against his. Satisfied with her inability to move, he leveled his forearm to where her own would be had it not been bound. She squirmed and fought in vain with her left arm against his steadfast hold, whimpering and grunting in frustration. "Let me go!"

"Hn," the tai youkai snorted with a slight frown as he patiently thought, her angry protests far from his mind. Then he nodded slightly in decision and further leaned forward, his warm breaths tickling her ear. Nimbly, he picked up the ebony chopsticks lying neatly on the black table. He dipped the ends into what remained of the fish fillet, retrieving a white, flaky piece of meat between the thin points of wood. He swirled it in a dark sauce, coating the meat lightly, letting the excess drizzle back into the cup before he brought it to Kagome's lips.

"Get that out of my face!" she yelled venomously, tears streaking down her cheeks as she turned her head away from the proffered food. "Why are you doing this?!"

"Hm?" he murmured questioningly, "You are hungry and I have merely taken it upon myself to feed you. I can hear your stomach grumble and it is my understanding of humans that if you do not eat regularly, you perish. So, I have decided to remedy the situation and aid you with the arm that I have leant you."

"But, I don't want you to!"

"You object? You do not wish to eat?"

"I want to, but I don't want your help to," she bit out as she struggled again at his grip.

"Ah, but you have no arm to do so."

"I'd rather eat it right off the plate than use your arm," she roared, turning to stare at him, her fury dazzling in her dark eyes.

"You resent it?"

"Yes!"

"I will let you go then," the youkai lord acquiesced, as he leaned away, releasing her from his hold. "Reckless compassion is more than accepting the problems of people whose needs are greater than what you can give. When you help someone, you take responsibility for their well being, for their lives. You hold power over them and can even control their fate. Not all wish to give away something so precious as that. Some would rather eat off the plate than allow another to hold their chopsticks."

"Maybe you're right," she remarked after a moment, sniffing and wiping the tears from her cheeks with the heel of her hand. "Maybe my empathy for his fate is reckless and maybe the Dragon King will resent it. Maybe he doesn't want my help, but needs it and maybe he is evil and innocence has nothing to do with it." She rose to her feet again and turned to face the door the Dragon King had left through. "But, if I always thought the way you do. If I always chose to do what you have done, then Inuyasha would still be sealed to Goshinboku and I never would have come to know all of the people who I love in this era. I will take my chances."


	28. Innocence

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Innocence

Like the slow thaw of spring, time trickled by as Kagome waited silently in the soft blue shade of the square courtyard. Her tender lip grew raw under the scrape of her teeth as she gently bit at it, lost in her indecision. It had been determination and rage that had guided her steps away from the dining room and the infuriating tai youkai within it, Sesshoumaru and his wise, but unforgiving advice. She reached for her sore arm, rubbing her elbow soothingly as she swallowed down at the renewed lump of anger that burned in the back of her throat. 'What a jerk.'

The quiet sound of splashing water contrasting with a series of loud, slurping pops drew the school girl from her frustrated thoughts and her sight into the amber and pink reflections of dusk. The rich hues painted every surface that shadow did not touch, drowning even the bleached white planks of the polished, wood floor in warm color.

At the center of the courtyard, stood the king, his dark silhouette edged in golden light as he leaned against a delicate, ebony rail. He appeared lost in contemplation, his elbows resting heavily on the wooden bar in front of him as he overlooked a small pond sitting below the raised deck of the floor. The calm water reflected in near perfection the magenta sky of the slowly fading sunset, with only the black shadows of its shallow ripples marring its effort. Reaching over leisurely, his hand sought an elegant porcelain dish sitting precariously on a narrow post next to him. He dipped into it absently, grasping a few pellets with his fingers. He cradled them in his hand, considering them as he rolled them around in his palm with his thumb. Satisfied or bored, he abruptly cast them into the water with a light spattering. Scarcely a breath passed before the liquid surface churned violently in reaction, the gentle waves lapping at the smooth rocks that framed the pool. Like giant, graceful teardrops, koi fish of red and white emerged from the darkness, sucking loudly at the floating pebbles of food that had lured them from the security of the depths. Under the flourish of fin, soon the pellets were gone and as quickly as they had appeared, the fish swiftly faded into the blackness, their appetites sated.

Finding herself completely at a loss, Kagome watched on at the king's back as he fed the fish a few more times. For all of her pride and desire to heal him from the old wounds that scarred his words and his heart, in the end, she had no idea what to say to him. What do you say to an evil monster whose brothers once devoured innocent goddesses? What do you say to a brother who woke up from a peaceful slumber to find his family dead? What do you say to a tortured father who has found the illusion of family in a prison, but has been denied the strength to protect them? She bit at her lip again.

"Why do you hide, good lord?" the Dragon King spoke up finally, turning his head slightly to eye her curiously, taking note her startled expression with a smirk.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her cheeks flushing lightly in embarrassment as she searched for answers that were not the real ones that idled in her head, "I came out for some air. I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"I am doing nothing so important that I require your absence," he replied reassuringly before letting his eyes fall to the pond yet again. "As it were, if you wish to step out of the shadows, you may join me. I am not known to bite, despite my reputation."

"I didn't think you would."

"Your innocence is refreshing," he remarked with a low, sinister chuckle, his pearly fangs taking on a more menacing glint than before. Then with the stately motion of a black clawed finger, he gestured to the empty railing beside him. "Come, but only if you desire."

With a deep breath to summon her confidence, the school girl moved forward, her hesitancy waning with each unwavering step. In a few short strides, she was at his side. She rested her elbows on the rail, mimicking his posture and eliciting another smile from his lips.

"So, where is your dog servant?" he asked after a moment, a red eye peering down at her to catch her frown of disapproval.

"He's not my servant," she quickly answered with a firm voice to leave no doubt. "But, he's still in the dining hall."

"You are brave to be in my presence without his escort."

"He would say I was a fool."

"Ha," the king laughed, "Bravery and foolishness are often one and the same. All that separates them is success."

"I suppose so," she sheepishly agreed with a smile. "Sometimes I don't know which I am."

"Hence why you are here."

"Huh?"

"No one ventures into the same courtyard as Yamata-no-Orochi to simply share the air. There must be some need waiting behind your lips. Some question you wish to ask."

"Hm," she snorted, looking up at him to catch his knowing gaze, "Am I that obvious?"

"You are as transparent as water, good lord," he remarked, his tone unimpressed, but nothing else. "So, what does my children's future savior wish for?"

"I don't really wish for anything, to be honest," she answered, rubbing her thumbs gently over each other in fidgeting nervousness. "I just want to do something. I want to do something to save you."

"You will," he replied in mild bewilderment, unsure of the intent behind her words. "You will slay the Centipede and my children will be spared. The glory of being a hero will be yours with a little patience. Midnight will be upon us in a few, short hours."

"That's not what I meant. I want to help you."

"Help me?" he repeated darkly, turning to face her with a crimson stare anchored firmly to her own sepia one.

"Yes," she replied with a deep, rasping breath, waylaying the anxiety creeping into her throat. "I can hear your pain when you talk about your past. I can see how you hurt over what has happened to you at the hands of a god. I understand what you've lost and I, I want to help you."

"You know my pain?" he wondered harshly in disbelief, sparks flickering in his eyes as thin wisps of aura slipped from him. "You've awakened to your family lying in pools of their own blood beside you? You've wished a thousand times that the blade that felled them had sliced your throat as well? You've cursed the heavens every aching day that bleeds into every unbidden, tortured night and back again? Over and over, until you can barely remember a time when you lived free of guilt and anger?" He leaned in close examining her uneasy expression with a scrutinizing glare before snorting in satisfaction. "You are too naive. Too pure to truly know what it means to be me. I do not desire your comfort or your help."

"But you need it."

He scowled at her as he tamed his rage, leaving his waning evilness to evaporate in the air.

"If you didn't want my help, then why did you tell me your story?" she demanded softly, finding confidence in the strength of her resolve. She would help him. No one else would. "Why tell me about the unfairness dealt to you, if it wasn't to seek help?"

"I told you nothing that you did not wish to know," the king answered seethingly, gripping the railing beneath him. "You wished for my identity beyond the Dragon King and I told you. You wished for my story as Yamata-no-Orochi and I told you that as well. Like now with this unsavory discussion, how can I deny the one who will save my children?"

"That's just it. They're illusions, not children," Kagome reasoned. "And even more so, they're not your brothers. They're not your family. All they do is keep you from peace by worrying you over their fate."

"You know nothing of loneliness, do you?" he remarked bitterly with nails grinding against the wood within his grip, sending fine shavings fluttering to the floor. "Let me ask you, do you believe me weak for not breaking the magic of this world? That bastard dog demon did. I carry as much power as he does and many times more when I was not alone so many years ago. It was enough to scare even the great Susanou from an honorable battle."

"Then why don't you? Between you and Shiro, this scroll, this prison would be nothing. You could be free."

"And what is freedom, but a dark, empty hole? There is nothing out there for me. These children, conjurations of a spiteful god or not, are all that I have. I will not jeopardize them just to bend the magic a little to my will. I could end the existence of the Centipede whenever I want, but what role will my children play if they are no longer in danger? Could my worst fear of their non-existence be brought to pass by such blind thinking? I could not bear it."

"And so you stay," she murmured in frustration, running her fingers through her hair, "To pay for the crimes of your brothers and to live in fear of what could be."

"Hn," he snorted, dismissing her words with the wave of a hand, "You still do not understand. My brothers and I were one and the same beast. Their acts are mine as well and so are their punishments."

"But, you didn't drink the blood of a maiden. You're innocent."

"Innocent?" he laughed wickedly, startling the school girl with its suddenness. "Is that what this is about?"

"Yes," she replied adamantly. "You haven't done anything wrong and that's why you were spared. No goddess died at your hand or claw--"

"And so, good lord," the king interrupted with a nod, "That is it. You've torn into every aspect of my existence with your words and sagely assumptions, finding only pain and anguish in your wake. Even now you deny me guilt and all under the premise of innocence. I tire of your pity and selfish altruism."

"I don't pity you."

"But, you do," he quickly remarked and followed with a sneer, "It is all clear to me now and I know how you may aid me in easing my heart."

"How?" she asked hesitantly as he leaned in closer to her, his hot, sparking breath flush against her cheek.

"It is quite simple. You can give me guilt."

With that, his clawed hand seized her throat, searing her neck with its heat as his fire darkened nails pinched her skin. Her hands flew at his grip, clawing and wrenching vainly as he chuckled evilly at her struggle.

"Sessh--," she half-choked out as the vice of his fingers tightened and ended her cry with a pained squeak.

"Shh," he whispered into her ear, his lips grazing her lobe, "Your dog will not arrive in time to save you, good lord. Or should I refer to you as good miko? One does not need to see your true form to know the pure essence that flows from you. Priestesses wield the power of the gods, little girl."

"Let me go," she demanded in a hoarse whisper, "You know I can't save your children from the Centipede if I'm dead."

"Hn," he snorted, "Yes, my children could perish tonight at the Centipede's whim, but you are mistaken if you believe that when I awaken tomorrow on the bridge that they will still be gone. You forget the nature of this scroll. Nothing created here is forever. The lord has missed before and I have heard and seen the terror of their deaths. What is certain is that if I suck the marrow from your bones and drink the blood from your skull, I will be cleansed of all innocence and my heart will be clear. You though, being not of this world, will be dead forever."

"No," she muttered venomously, summoning her miko power, hopelessly hoping that it would be enough to free her. That it would be enough to give her time to call for him, wherever he may be. The king's dark, soiled aura flared up at the desperate pure burst of pink radiance she mustered, squelching it like rain in a river of lava. She felt her lungs seize as the evilness washed over her in burning waves, robbing her of consciousness.

"Delicate, aren't we?" he scolded gently as her head lolled to the side and her eyelids drooped. He rolled his thumb over her cheek, propping her heavy head up with ease. "Stay with me, good lord. I am not finished with you and it would truly be a pity if you were not able to fully appreciate the fruits of your efforts."

Using the forefinger of his free hand, he scraped a nail into her cheek, drawing a thin line of red. Beads of blood formed along it, contrasting brightly with the growing paleness of her porcelain skin. He leaned away from her ear and flicked out his black, slightly forked tongue. Achingly slow, he eagerly dragged it along the scratch, drying it of blood.

"Hmm," he considered as he drew away from her, his shadowed body still framed in golden sunlight and his eyes glowing bright red. "Like ash compared to a real god's taste, but it will have to do. You have my gratitude."

Then all went black.


	29. Peace

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Peace

It was faint at first, like a quiet whisper lost in the whirling fury of a tornado born of flame and hate. Slowly it grew, the cool breath of silk drawing her from the fire of her nightmare and the image of glowing, red eyes that were seared in her mind. The soothing sway of easy steps rocking her body eased her further and with a soft moan, her eyes fluttered open to a blurry world. Red and white filled her vision and her restless murmurs subsided in a sigh of relief at the familiar colors. Amid the vague shapes of her hazy sight, the piercing stare of twin orbs of gold held her for a moment, eliciting a faint smile from her lips as she drifted back into unconsciousness. She knew she was safe. Amber eyes were always safe. One thought lingered as she slipped into a peaceful rest, fading as sleep overtook her. 'Had there always been so much more white than red?'

OOOOOOOOOO

Kagome's eyes blinked open to the feathery swirl of gray and white dyeing the unfamiliar, marble ceiling. She laid still, her fine brow furrowing slightly in puzzlement. The school girl had awoken to a variety of ceilings in recent memory. The white plaster of her bedroom, the old wood and thatch of village huts, and even the sparkling stars of the night sky, but the smooth stone above her now was a complete mystery. Curious, she turned her head, examining the small room without disturbing the warm covers of the comfortable futon she was nestled in.

The room was rather empty with only the elegant cranes on the painted walls decorating it. However, under the shimmering glow of hanging orbs that lit the dimness in soft, brilliant silver, it struck her that the room needed nothing else. Out of place and hidden away against the far wall near the door, the seated figure of the tai youkai caught her eye and her misplaced memories flooded into the forefront of her mind. The scroll, the poem, the fairy tales and the king with the murderous eyes roiled forth. Sighing both in futility and relief, she recalled her doomed confrontation with the Dragon King and wondered at her apparent escape from the fate he had promised her.

"That didn't go over too well," she murmured in a hoarse voice still singed by the king's fiery grip. Laying the back of her hand across her forehead, she briefly thought over how well her words understated what had actually happened.

"It would seem so," the youkai lord replied, his maroon eyelids remaining closed as he continued to meditate with legs crossed comfortably and his hand resting on his knee. The weighty silence clung in the air as she shifted to nervously stare at the unseeing demon, mulling over her next words and the undesired answer he would likely give.

"Did you save me?" she finally asked, gulping down at the guilt and dread waiting in her throat.

"No."

"What happened then?" she abruptly asked in mild shock at the unexpected reply. The king had vowed to drink the blood from her skull and from what she could tell; her blood was still in it. Hadn't she been saved?

"The king returned to the hall shortly after you departed. He instructed me of your location and that you would need care," the tai youkai answered, his voice lingering in distaste as he pronounced the detestable words implying his servitude.

"He spared me?"

"Possibly," he considered aloud, opening his eyes to reveal the black slivers of his pupils. "Or that he could not kill you even if he wished to."

"The barrier."

"Hn," he snorted. "The Dragon King does not kill the human lord in the story; hence your fragile life persists."

"Then he bluffed me," she remarked with another sigh as the growing revelation knitted her brow. "He's been here too long and knows this world too well to be ignorant of the barrier."

Sesshoumaru nodded slightly before closing his eyes again, feigning his usual disinterest. The school girl watched him for a moment until the prick of pain from her pressed cheek snared her attention. Her body aching, she sat up slowly with her tangled, ebony locks hanging haphazardly around her face. Gently, she traced her finger over the narrow line of broken flesh drawn earlier by the Dragon King's claw. She had not imagined it in her final moments before passing out. He had drunk her blood and thanked her in bitter words for absolving him of innocence. She shuddered in remembrance of the hiss of his voice and the searing warmth of his moist tongue.

"He thanked me for giving him guilt," she commented, eyeing the demon through the tendrils of her hair. "I know he was being sarcastic and angry, but why would anyone want to be guilty when they haven't done anything to justify it?"

"You associate innocence with hope. The hope that the guardian of this realm will realize that the punishments being exacted are not warranted. What you do not understand however is that this is not a prison that was justly made, but one created from spite. Innocence only destroys those caged here."

"Then guilt means you accept your fate? That you deserve to be tortured? How is that survival? Shiro-sama had hope and he didn't wallow in guilt."

"He did not believe himself innocent either. He insulted the human Susanou and has accepted the penalty of angering a god. There can be hope with guilt and there can be peace with it as well. The world is not simple, miko. And neither is it fair."

"It's more than guilt and innocence. If he wanted to, the king could escape. He told me as much before he--"

"Yamata-no-Orochi is a creature of unspeakable power," Sesshoumaru stated firmly fixing his sight on Kagome as her words trailed off. "Even as fragmented and weakened as he is now, the great Shiro-sama would be at a devastating disadvantage in a battle.

"And you?"

"It would not be pleasant."

"I see."

"Regardless," he continued, not wishing to dwell on his own limitations in the presence of such overwhelming strength, "What is waiting for him outside of this world?"

"He said there was only a dark, empty hole. Nothing."

"Conjurations or not, bonds are bonds and so he stays. Your good intentions would only bring him further pain and loneliness. I cannot fault him for wishing to remain."

"Hm," she murmured, combing her hair carefully with her fingers. "Good intentions, huh? He said I pitied him and that my altruism was selfish."

"All altruism is selfish."

"How can that be? People do things for others for free all of the time," she reasoned loudly. "We've saved villages from attack and buried those who we were too late for. The greater good doesn't always reward, you know."

"There is always a reward."

"How?"

"Do you take pride in helping those less fortunate than yourself?"

"Y-yes, but not that much."

"Intangible and meager as it may be, it is still a benefit that you gain."

"But, what about if someone sacrifices their life to save another?"

"A brief reward."

"Ugh," she uttered in a prolonged grunt of frustration before reclining back onto her futon with a soft smack. Wrathful and angry as he may be, she was gradually coming to the conclusion that the Dragon King was infinitely less aggravating than the inu tai youkai sitting by the door. She laid there for a while lost in her contemplations on her reasons in helping the tortured king. Who was she really benefiting by involving herself in his life? She raised her hand above her face, staring at it silhouetted by the glowing light of the strung lanterns. Slowly, a notion seeped into her mind as she watched her hand floating through her vision, thinking of another one with stripes and bearing unwanted chopsticks.

"Thank you," she said suddenly, her voice soft as she turned her head to face the demon who had since receded back into his own meditations.

"Hm?"

"Thank you for letting me try. For not holding my chopsticks for me. I appreciate it."

"Hn," he snorted softly with a nod. "Resentment does not suit you and--"

"And?" she repeated quizzically, knowing the demon as a man of few words, but never at a loss to express any.

"And the wisdom of a youkai lord does not always have the desired end either. My half-brother could attest to that."

"Hm," she smiled with slowly flushing cheeks, "I'll remember that."

"If you must."

"So," she continued, changing the subject with a smirk and eyeing the strange sleeve of a yukata robe that was dressed in, "Where are my clothes?"

"The fish women were overly concerned regarding your comfort," he replied at length before gesturing at the foot of her bed. "Your strange raiment has been laundered and your modesty, as little as you may have, has been preserved."

"Hey!"

"Merely an observation. The future shall be an interesting place to study should I have the privilege to witness it." With that, he stood gracefully and strolled to the rice paper door and left the room to give her privacy.

After a huff of breath aimed to ruffle her bangs, she rose to her feet and sought the carefully folded sailor blouse and pleated skirt that no longer bore the soil, blood and stickiness of three stories of wrestling with woodland creatures, fighting bandits and the wet, affectionate tongue of an old, perverted dog. In a matter of moments, she was straightening her calf length socks and inwardly pleased that the mermaids had managed to unfasten her clothing without ruining any of it, especially her bra.

Leaning against the wall near where the youkai lord was once sitting, a tall, elegant object caught her eye. A smile gracing her lips, Kagome picked up the finely crafted bow. A pair of coiled dragons were carved into the wood, their heads with open maws meeting at the handle as they spiraled outward to meet the string in an easy arch. It felt light and balanced, as if she were carrying nothing, but air in her outstretched hand. However, despite its weight, there was strength in its design, as she steadily drew the string with her fingers. Releasing it with harmonious twang, she grinned in satisfaction. She had never held a bow quite like it.

Resting on the floor lay a long, white quiver with the feathery fletching of three arrows protruding from its top. She set the bow down in its previous place and picked up her newest find, marveling at the intricate design of a quarrelling phoenix and dragon that was stamped into the leather. She pulled out a large arrow, inspecting its silvery sheen and the glass tip filled with quicksilver at its point. Wary and content, she returned it to its sheath and slung the quiver onto her back, feeling its end tickling the back of her thighs. Then with a firm grip, she grasped the waiting bow and approached the doorway. With a few deep breaths to rally her spirit, the school girl slid open the door.

"Are you ready, miko?" Sesshoumaru asked directly, his arm folded against his chest in seeming comfort.

"I hope so," she replied awkwardly, shifting the quiver on her back. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Everything," she sighed, her anxiety slipping into her voice. "How do you go into battle knowing you're going to win? Where do you get that confidence?"

"Do you remember what I told you after the second fairy tale? In the orchard we emerged in?"

"No," she answered after a moment, embarrassed over her lack of memory. Issunboshi seemed like such a long time ago. "What?"

"I told you that I will benefit you with my knowledge, so that you may grow stronger."

"Now?"

A rumble grew in the distance, shaking the castle through to its foundation in a rhythmic vibration. The walls flickered black as the fish decorating them sought refuge beyond the frames, leaving the two in near darkness.

"I guess now would be a good time."

Scarcely acknowledging her remark, Sesshoumaru moved forward down the corridor with Kagome trailing behind him, her eyes never leaving the guiding, silver glint of his hair in the low light.

He slid open a door and crossed the empty dining hall in a few strides, entering the courtyard where he had found the unconscious miko earlier. The dark navy of night replaced the warmth of the setting sun. Standing protectively amidst his seven sons, the Dragon King eyed his two guests warily, his crimson stare only more disturbing in the shadowy hours of midnight.

Kagome stared at the face that had inspired so much pain and fear in her of late. She stared at the concern etched into his expression and she stared at the children huddled around his legs. And she understood. She leaned forward in a bow and the king's face lightened. A fang clipping his lip in a rare, genuine smile that was neither a grin or grimace, the king bowed as well.

"Remember the kiss of arrow, good lord. You will not know victory without it."

She nodded, gripping the bow harder as she burned his words into her mind.

"Miko?"

"Yeah?" she answered turning to look at the tai youkai and then beyond as her heart sank. Away in the distance, the blackened mountain loomed in flames with the dark sheen of a plated beast coiled around it. At the summit, hovered its head where two fires swelled brightly, drowning out the stars on the moonless night.

"It is time."


	30. Fire and Arrows

Chapter Thirty: Fire and Arrows

"The Centipede, not a centipede," Kagome mumbled under her breath, staring at the enormous, serpentine creature choking the mountain in fire as it tightened its snaking body around it.

"Hn," Sesshoumaru snorted in agreement, his sight like her own, settling on the burning battlefield awaiting them. Glowing like hot coals, the Centipede's many splinter legs dug into the hard earth, leaving trailing, hot pools of molten rock as it passed. Growing plumes of billowing smoke quickly engulfed the horizon, concealing the beast in a polluted haze lit below in orange by the rising flames. Dulled little by the veil of ash, the fires of its eyes observed the distant castle in sinister anticipation.

"Are you ready, miko?" he asked again, shifting his gaze from the smoldering mountain to the softly shaking woman at his side. Her wide eyes lingered on the creature before meeting the strikingly calm expression of the tai youkai.

"You're going to help me, right?" she answered with another question.

"I do not go back on my word," he replied with a rare and fleeting smile. She sighed in relief, feeling her confidence returning. It was strange and foreign to be without it, even for a moment. Perhaps the weight of so much had never been placed so completely on her shoulders. It was more than the virtue of a conceited princess, but the delicate lives of children that were in her hands. Whether or not they were real seemed inconsequential now, because they were loved and in her heart that was enough.

She looked up at the demon in silence as she breathed deeply, thinking on his offer and his presence. There had always been others to share the burden of battle. The youkai huntress, the wandering monk, the kitsune pup and the brash hanyou had always been there to fight at her side, to right the world tormented by abusers of the Shikon-no-Tama. Now she had a new and unlikely comrade, a stoic, youkai lord who once proved more an enemy than an ally. She turned to the far-off mountain and the once brilliant flames seemed dimmer than before and she smiled. She could do it. They could do it.

"I'm ready," she spoke up with a nod, smoothly reaching over her shoulder for an arrow from her quiver.

"Good," the tai youkai commented before leaning close to her and slipping his hand down to her waist.

"Wait! What are you doing?!" she reacted in a flustered voice as she felt the points of his claws caress her skin as he gripped her gently. In one easy motion, he lifted her above him and sat her carefully on his broad shoulder. Satisfied that she was securely against the curve of his arching armor, the demon eyed her blushing shock coolly.

"This isn't a sword fight!" she managed angrily after a brief loss of words. "And I'm not that bad of a shot that I have to be next to it to hit it."

"If I am to guide and aid you, we will go to meet it before it can meet us and that which we are protecting," he reasoned with a faint sigh.

"Fine," she conceded with a huff. "But, you could at least warn me before you pick me up."

"Unlikely."

"Sadist."

"Hn," he snorted, raising a brow as he considered her insult. "More likely."

"You know--" she began, before whooping in surprise as he sprang forward onto the crest of the outlying wall of the courtyard and then over the rim, his pelt trailing behind him as they disappeared.

The Dragon King followed suit as far as the wall, watching on with his arms crossed across his chest as their silver blur skimmed over the broad plane of the lake and toward the patient monster looming before them.

"May the hunt be with you, good lord."

OOOOOOOOOO

The checkered reflections of amber on the black water moved by in a swift blur as they crossed the surface. With boots grazing the gentle, rippling waves, the travelers were slowly enveloped in the hot and heavy air born from the stirring flames surrounding the approaching mountain. The waves grew slightly in intensity as their depths grew shallow and with one final leap, the youkai lord's feet met the soft, black sand of the shore.

"Prepare yourself, miko," he commanded, bounding up the hillside and into the charred skeleton of a pine tree with ease. Nodding, her hands gripped the red, patterned collar of his coat and the sturdy, metal arch of his armor. The wind of his youki swelled at his ankles and with lurching speed, they launched into the air.

Kagome gasped for air as the familiar, wrenching pull of gravity bent her down against her thighs mercilessly. Gradually its steady drag eased as the tai youkai's climb into the sky reached its peak. Slowing to a stop in midair, they hovered above the water and earth plagued by the lower half of the shifting, plated beast.

"Ready your arrow," Sesshoumaru said turning slightly to look at the serious miko perched upon him, his once pale face as golden as his eyes in the fiery light. Swallowing at any nervousness, she reached back, feeling the delicate tickle of feathers with her fingertips. Retrieving a silver arrow, she deftly nocked it to the bowstring and leveled its horseshoe tip up between the blazing fires of the towering Centipede's eyes. The tingling warmth of her power radiated down her spine through her arms and into her hands as she drew the string, tickling her nerves in anticipation.

"Wait!" the youkai lord cautioned loudly, but as his warning flew, so did the arrow. In a halo of glowing, pink glitter, it sailed forth and pierced the heavy smoke, leaving a widening tunnel of cleansed air in its wake. Ahead, the giant, shiny black head of the creature lay and with a sparkling burst of color, the tiny arrow shattered against it.

"Huh? What?" she sputtered, worry rushing into her voice. "It didn't work? Did I do something wrong?"

"You used your power."

"Of course I did," she replied defensively. "I'm a miko. That's what we do!"

"Naturally and it is a wise practice against demons who can be purified, beings of the earth that we are."

"So?"

"That is a conjuration of a god. You have used the power of the gods to purify a creation of a god."

"In other words, I've given it more power rather than taking it away?"

"And," he began as the beast roared shrilly, tearing the sky asunder with its cry before leveling its sight on the two, diminutive interlopers invading its domain, "You have disclosed our presence to it."

"Oh."

"Oh, indeed."

With unnatural speed, the Centipede slipped around the mountain, its rapid legs grinding into the earth as it moved. Crumbling, molten boulders tumbled under the swiftly shifting weight, their crushing path forging quickly towards the woman and demon beneath.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?!" Kagome exclaimed, bow still in hand as she desperately gripped his armor and coat again.

"Hn."

Drawing Toukijin in a single, smooth movement, he met the rock and lava with flame of his own. With a miko hunched low against him, he sprang forward. His glancing steps found the cool surfaces as he unleashed torrents of fire and electricity, turning the bombardment into harmless dust as it passed. A final, enormous blast finishing the last of it flew and filled their vision with its brilliant explosion. Then through it, dove the head of the Centipede, dissipating the dwarfed flame in a rush of air.

Its razor sharp mandibles agape, the beast pivoted towards them to strike, closing the distance in a vanishing blur. Instinct governing his movements, the tai youkai dodged narrowly and landed on the blunt edge of its jaws.

"Tch," he grumbled, baring his teeth as he felt the heat of the creature's body melting his boots and burning the soles of his feet. Nimbly, he leapt onto the monster's smooth, disk-shaped head. His heels barely touching the armored plating, he sprinted along its face and toward the burning wells of its eyes. In a tone more irritable than usual, he called out to the woman huddled on his shoulder. "Miko, prepare another arrow."

Her fingers trembling, Kagome reached for another arrow from her singed quiver. Retrieving its shining length, she carefully nocked it to her bow. The unwanted prickling of her power returned and she gulped down as she willfully quelled it.

"I've never hit anything without my power," she admitted shakily as she drew the string.

"You hit the ground, did you not?"

"Ye-Yeah," she answered with a nervous laugh.

"In this moment, that is all you must do."

"All right," she whispered with a nod, summoning her confidence. "Just hit the ground. That's all I need to do."

A twang rang out as she released the arrow. It wobbled slightly as it flew in front of them before striking the Centipede's flesh harmlessly and skittering across its skin. The heat overtook it after a few bounces and the arrow combusted into shattering embers.

"No!" Kagome called out plaintively. "I didn't use my power. Why didn't it work?"

Before the tai youkai could reply, the determined beast rolled, driving its back and shortly the crest of its head into the molten face of the mountain. Springing to the side, he moved in the opposite direction, staying but a few paces from the fast approaching, crushing grind of liquid rock and the harder shell of the monster's body.

Swiftly, he met the edge before the underside of its chin and the glowing heat that melted rock and more than likely tai youkais and humans as well. Leaping out into the air, he gathered his youki and spun around as he skipped to a stop through the sky, his eyes never leaving the writhing creature before him.

Spying its quarry, the Centipede screeched its thunderous roar and struck away from the mountain with blinding speed. Too swift to outrun, Sesshoumaru readied Toukijin and briefly considered that the battle within the beast's gullet would not be avoidable nor pleasant.

A hollow boom shattered the heavens as the monster's mandibles surrounded the pair and then the Centipede was gone, whipped away in ball of black flame. The barrier sizzled around its body, protecting it from harm as its tangled body tumbled helplessly over the terrain. Caught in the path of the blast, the massive mountain disintegrated, leaving a smoldering, concave valley in its place.

A distant, dark chuckle drifting to their ears, the two travelers looked over their shoulders and at the casually flying silhouette of a serpentine dragon.

"That was satisfying," the Dragon King remarked as he closed in, spiraling around them with a body that could rival the Centipede's in size.

"That was amazing," Kagome finally answered breathlessly.

"Hn, a mere yawn," the king commented before shifting directions toward his castle, "And pointless. I can only delay it for a moment. You must use the kiss of arrow."

"What does that mean?!" she called out to the departing dragon only to be left without an answer. "Why does everyone have to be so damn cryptic?! Kiss of arrow. Kiss of arrow. Kiss... kiss." She pulled the last arrow from the quiver and balanced it in her open hand. Maybe it was just that. A kiss. For some reason it seemed right when she thought about it. It had been so long since she had heard the fairy tale that the most vital part had slipped her mind. The kiss of arrow. Mindful of its sharp points, she held the tip up to her mouth and wet her lips. With a gentle kiss, she moistened the arrowhead.

"Miko, it will be returning soon," Sesshoumaru spoke up, crooking a brow at her strange affection for her final arrow.

"I remember the story now. The lord slays the Centipede using human saliva. It's the only thing toxic to them."

"Hn ...human stories," he snorted. "Are you ready then?"

"I'm going to need your help one last time. I don't think I can do it without your guidance."

"Very well." Gliding hastily over the hillsides, the Centipede slithered towards them, swallowing up the ground with its body effortlessly. "Close your eyes, miko."

Nodding, she closed her eyes.

"Firing one hundred arrows a day is nothing compared to firing one arrow well a day. I want you to envision your prey. Envision nocking your arrow and envision drawing your bow. See your target and only your target. Do so until there is nothing else."

"Okay."

"Imagine your arrow's path and its strike. Imagine your success. And in that moment release your fingers. No later."

Softly, she let out a deep breath, her eyes fluttering open and falling to the demon beneath her.

"I think I'm ready," she said quietly.

"Do not doubt your skills. You are ready. Believe in yourself as I believe in you."

With another nod, she nocked her arrow as the approaching beast dipped into the remains of the mountain and scaled the opposing sheer side.

"Draw your bow."

She pulled the string back and leveled her aim on the head of the Centipede as it breached the crater. Sesshoumaru remained still facing the impending jaws of the monster stoically, his confidence resting squarely on the miko settled upon his shoulder.

"See your target," Kagome whispered under her breath, "Until there is nothing else."

"Imagine the path and the strike."

"Imagine my success."

"And release."

The arrow flew from her hand as the hot breath of the beast engulfed them in its heat and its sharp mandibles wrapped lovingly around them. Innocuous in appearance, the thin missile struck the roof of the Centipede's mouth, piercing it as it drove towards the brain. Finding its mark embedded in the soft organ, the creature roared in pain and defeat. Not one to waste an opportunity, the youkai lord and his passenger dove out of the briefly, gaping jaws as the monster plummeted to the lake below, seizing and thrashing in its final throes as it died.

Breathing heavily in shock and relief, the school girl watched as the gigantic beast stilled, dyeing the lake red with its blood.

"We won," she murmured in disbelief.

"You won, miko."

"Not without you. Thank you."

She felt his shrug under her seat and she smiled. He really wasn't used to being thanked.

"Shall we return?"

"Let's."

OOOOOOOOOO

"A worthy victory, good lord," the Dragon King called out as the travelers landed in the courtyard. His congratulations were swiftly interrupted by the overwhelming, joyful cheers of the dragon children that swarmed the grinning school girl and the less than welcoming tai youkai.

"Thank you," Kagome replied giddily under the tickling embraces of the unruly boys.

"I must thank you," the king corrected. "You are the hero, even when you could have chosen not to be."

"What do you mean?"

"I assaulted you. You could have chosen to let my brood die at the jaws of the Centipede for my transgression. You could have chosen to wait until the story began a new before slaying the beast so that you may move on to the next tale."

"It was my own pride that offended me, Dragon-ou-sama, not you. My own selfish altruism and my own reckless compassion and you and your children don't deserve to be punished for my own failings. I have learned much in your company."

"I have no doubt for I see it in you," he remarked with a gentle smile. "And I have a reward for you, one that you have truly earned."

"I hope it's not a bag of rice."

"No," he chuckled "As likely as that should be." His black clawed hand slipped into his sleeve and from it he withdrew a plaque. It glowed hot in his hands, like the bright amber of metal dipped in a forge. "Take this. It is quite cool despite how it appears."

Hesitantly, she reached out and grasped the proffered gift in her hand. Gentle warmth flowed from it and engraved on its surface was the triangular kanji for fire. She turned it over in her hand and on its reverse were the next lines of the poem.

The youkai lord freed himself from the overly affectionate and inquisitive attentions of the sons for whom scowls and glares had failed to repel. The children of Yamata-no-Orochi were no doubt difficult to intimidate. The school girl held out the plaque for him to see.

"A turtle in jeopardy. A fisherman with kindness," he read aloud slowly.

"Journey to the sea," she followed with her verses. "A princess awaits her love. Timeless in her keep."

"Land will not wait for him. Many suns and moons will pass."

"A box of secrets. Who will bear its gift within? A choice must be made."

In a sparkle of blue, glittering dust, the plaque shattered in her hand. Strolling over to the courtyard door leading back into the palace, the Dragon King slid it open, revealing the sun of midday and a narrow path of smooth steps made of large, round stones.

"Your way and your destiny, good lord," he said with a bow.

Kagome nodded and looked back at the indifferent demon who had already stepped toward the waiting entrance, inwardly pleased to be rid of this story and the sinister prisoner that dwelled within it.

"I hope you will always have your peace," the school girl said softly to the king as she approached the threshold.

"And I hope you will never know loneliness, good lord," he answered as he stepped back among his children.

"I hope so too."

And with that, she crossed the doorway, leaving the castle of marble and crystal forever.


	31. Q&A with Shiro and the Dragon King

Chapter Thirty-One: Q&A with Shiro and the Dragon King

The melodious chirps of crickets permeated the cool, autumn air, proclaiming the coming of evening in song. Ghosting the western horizon, the last, magenta rays of sunlight tinged the sky and faded to the dark of navy that shaded the east. Sharp and brilliant, constellations of stars glittered in the sky and the pale radiance of the crescent moon washed the world in soft light.

Gently sloping hills and thin orchards molded the landscape, strangely beautiful in their simplicity. In a thicket of stunted trees with boughs laden in the warm colors of fall, vaporous clouds of steam wafted on the light breeze. Below, they billowed lazily off of deep pools of dark water, the brilliance of the night sky reflecting on the stilled, liquid surface.

Leaning comfortably against one of the large, smooth stones that framed the spring, the pale figure of a man rested. His muscular torso lay exposed above the heat of the water, painted in rare places with burgundy stripes. Lolling to the side and weighted with sleep, his heavy head hung with three, burgundy stripes gracing his cheekbones. The dark red shadowed his closed eyelids as well and hidden beneath his long silver bangs was a blue crescent moon that mirrored its luminous cousin shining above in the heavens. Through parted lips, drool seeped with the occasional droplet falling to the pool below with a delicate plop. Radiating around him in a halo of silver, his long hair draped with their ends curling in elegant designs on the water's surface as he dozed.

"Dog?" a smooth, crackling voice called out in growing irritation. "Dog?!"

"Hmm?" the napping figure murmured, absently scratching at a tickle at the end of his nose with his nails.

"Wake up, dog. They are here."

"Hmm? Who's here?"

"Them."

"Them them?"

"Of course," the other growled. "Who else would it be?"

"I see," the waking man replied with a smile, cracking a golden eye as he stretched lazily. "And such poor hosts we are for making them wait. Why did you not tell me we had guests sooner, Orochi-san?"

"I did," the other man answered with a scowl from across the spring, the amber skin of his tanned body hidden in the shadows of the overhanging trees. His thickly corded arms were folded in an aggressive fashion against his robust chest, the fire darkened claws of his fingertips pressed against his flesh. Spiky, red hair flowed around him like a burning flame, the longer lengths bleeding into the water at his waist. Glowering in annoyance, he glared with haunting, crimson eyes at the shrugging, old, youkai lord.

"Well, there is nothing that we can do about it now," Shiro remarked dismissively, deepening the king's withering expression. "I suppose we should begin."

"Why are we here?"

"We are supposed to be answering the readers' questions, not your questions," Shiro sighed, rubbing his temples with the soft pads of his fingertips. "Besides, what is wrong with being here?"

"We are naked in a hot spring."

"It is called fan service."

"It is demeaning," the Dragon King retorted, his fierce look seemingly brighter.

"It cannot be helped. Our roles in the story are completed, so we must accept what little work we can find as a result. It is with this subject that we begin our first question and what I believe to be the most tragic and depressing of queries." Smoothly, the old youkai lord reached up to a rock beside him, gently grasping the thin frames of a pair of glasses resting there. With a careful flick of the wrist, he unfolded them and then set them against the bridge of his nose, their wire lengths at each side curving behind his ears. His hand soon returned to the stone, finding a wrinkled sheet of paper that was slightly damp from the steam. The demon held it out a fair distance in front of him in the low light of night as he cleared his throat.

"What is this question?"

"It is from Dark Darianna Minamino," Shiro replied somberly after a time, allowing dramatic tension to build, "She asks "Who the hell is our favorite nudist?"

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Who is it, dog?"

"It is me," the old lord said in exasperation, waving the paper in the air. "With a question like this, it would seem that I have already been forgotten. I was loved before and now a mere, eight chapters later, I find out I was but a fleeting fancy. A momentary amusement."

"I fail to see the tragedy."

"It is tragic for yet another wrote on the same subject and even more cruelly. Missy Misa - YourLastNightmare went so far as to say that she feared nudity and preferred the company of evil over that which might be naked."

"Hehe," the king chuckled darkly, licking his lips lightly with his forked, black tongue, "She may spend time with me if she wishes. I have not eaten well in some time and it might be pleasant to have her over for dinner."

"I am sure it would be... for you," Shiro remarked, eyeing the other's devious expression warily before wisely changing the subject. "Anyways, our next question is also from Dark Darianna Minamino. She is very inquisitive."

"Hn."

"She asks "How long do you think this story is going to be?" A valid query from a few months ago as not many asked questions at the end of the last chapter. Orochi-san, if you would."

"What?"

"I am not going to answer all of the questions. Some of them will fall to you."

"Hn," the king snorted with a renewed scowl as he thought. "It is called Seven Feudal Fairy Tales; therefore it will be seven stories long. There is your answer."

"Nothing else? Number of words? Number of chapters?"

"No."

"Well then, on to the next question," the old tai youkai said brightly. "This from both Dragonluvr1993 and of course, Dark Darianna Minamino."

"Dragonluvr? Hmm, maybe I will have two over for dinner."

"They ask," Shiro interrupted both loudly and quickly, "What are the different fairy tales, just naming them all out and not necessarily in order?"

"We do not know all of the stories. How are we supposed to expound on what they are?"

"Perhaps we should just dictate the ones we know. The first was The Adventures of Kintaro, The Golden Boy. The second was The Story of Tiny Finger or Issunboushi. The third and my personal favorite was The Story of the Old Man Who Made Withered Trees Bloom. Finally, our king's tale, My Lord o' Bag of Rice. The following stories are a secret, although some have deduced from the next lines of the poem what the fifth story will be."

"Urashima Taro."

"You gave it away."

"It does not matter. They will know it in the following chapter anyhow."

"But that was not very nice. Some might have wanted to discover it then."

"I am the greatest evil ever known, dog. Do not expect less."

"Fine, fine," the old lord replied, waving his hands through the air in acquiescence. "Moving on."

"A wise decision."

"The next one is from someone new. Bishieluver01."

"What is a "bishie"?"

"I have no idea," the old demon replied with a frown. "Probably not us."

"Good."

"She asks "I'm curious if the stories about the gods Amaterasu, Tsukiyomi or Susanou are coming up, since they're major myths. Or not since it seems Susanou is a major character within the story. The same questions for the stories of Mrs. Cutter with the Sparrow and the Bamboo Cutter's child, Kaguya."

"She seems confused."

"Perhaps. To answer her question however, Amaterasu and Tsukiyomi do have roles within the scroll, but they have yet to be revealed. As far as the Tongue Cut Sparrow and The Bamboo Cutter and the Moon-Child are concerned, it is a secret." Shiro eyed the sinister smile of the Dragon King. "A secret."

"Very well," the king conceded with a scowl.

"The next question is from Jake."

"Jake? There is a man among the readers?"

"So it would seem. I suppose they are out there."

"I wish there were more of them."

"Why?"

"Then I would not be in this hot spring with you."

They both nodded in ascension, taking a moment to appreciate the notion fully.

"He asks "From the manga, what do you think of Sesshoumaru regrowing his arm and creating a sword out of thin air? The statement was then made that this act made him more powerful than his father, which is true since the sword's weakest attack is stronger than InuYasha's most powerful attack. As far as this story goes, do you plan on working this event into your plot?"

"That was long."

"Indeed," Shiro replied, "And a thoughtful question as well. The goal of Sesshoumaru's character within this story is much more subtle than that of Kagome-san. Sesshoumaru is a very powerful demon, worthy of my lineage. His strength in battle and intelligence in strategy needs no improvement. His greatest encumbrance however and what prevents him from knowing true power is his regard for those around him. His personal growth centers on having a person to protect, a person to mourn, a person to give a gift to. When he learns what it means to care for someone, he will find the path to new echelons of greatness. The experiences he gains within this scroll will no doubt aid and guide the decisions that lay in his future. He will regrow his arm and conjure a new sword much like his great-grandsire created a magical mortar and made withered trees bloom."

"Are you finished?"

"Yes," Shiro answered with a deep breath. "Our next question is from Kagome Pureheart and Dark Darianna Minamino. They ask "What is happening to the Inu-Gang and to Rin and Jaken while Kagome and Fluffy are stuck in the poem?"

"Fluffy?"

"Kagome Pureheart's choice of word. I believe she is referring to my pup."

"Heh, does your whelp know of his new title?"

"She is still alive, so I suppose not. Would you like to answer this one, Orochi-san?"

"Hmm," the king murmured as he thought, a black nail stroking his chin. "They are wondering where their comrades went."

"Good answer."

"Do not patronize me, dog."

"I apologize. I am an old demon and my tongue reflects it so."

"I am older than you, whelp."

"Hmm... I suppose you are right. It has been sometime since that was true," Shiro deftly deflected under the red glower of the king. "Anyways, our next questions have more relevance with the individual tales. The next is from Kagome Pureheart again. "In the Kintaro legend, what would have been the prize given to Kagome if she hadn't stopped Sesshy from telling her?"

"Applause. Next question. I am starting to wrinkle in this detestable water."

"Very well. This is from Pretty P."

"Hmm, I did not realize letters could be attractive."

"Apparently this one is," the demon shrugged. "She asks "In the Issunboshi legend, is there any great significance to the guards' names being Ginta and Hakkaku? Like Kouga's two subordinates?"

"No, they have no relevance beyond the writer liking them and believing they deserve more attention than what they normally receive. Underappreciated guards in the manga and underappreciated guards in the Issunboushi story. Next."

"This is from PlayingwithDemons and it is in regard to my tale. "What a fabulous story of the dog clan's past! Did you make it up? Or is it resourced from somewhere?"

"This one does not seem to pay attention well."

"Well, it is not an uncommon question in the grand scheme. Many have asked similar questions through the course of the story. All of the tales are taken from different Japanese myths and they all have been manipulated slightly to suit this piece of fiction. Has the manga writer elaborated at any point that The Man Who Made Withered Trees Bloom was the source of Sesshoumaru and Inu-Yasha's clan? No, but it seems to work, does it not?"

"I believe you have gone on long enough about your clan, mutt."

"Are you certain? I do love talking about my greatness and the greatness of my progeny."

"That is without doubt."

"The next question is from venG. "In the Shiro legend, did Sesshoumaru really miss the kiss or did he just decide not to question his ancestor's ways?"

"Kiss?" the Dragon King questioned, raising a brow.

"I might have taken advantage of having an unrelated and unmated woman in my presence. Fifteen hundred years is a long time to spend without that sort of company," the tai youkai sighed wistfully.

"That is all?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Somehow, I expected more."

"My reputation is so much sleazier than I consider it to be."

"And the answer?"

"Ah, he saw it and he did not care. Good for everyone involved, I suspect."

"How many questions remain? I tire of this."

"Only a few more are left and most of them center on the same concept, that of romance between our two travelers."

"There are too many women who read this," the king remarked snidely.

"Romance is important, Orochi-san," Shiro quickly spoke up. "I wish Kagome-san had spent the night in my tale. I could have given her so many gifts. It is my nature afterall."

"Disgusting. I did not need that mental image."

"You are such a poor sport. Regardless, here is the question asked by PlayingWithDemons, Dark Darianna Minamino, Iloveprettysilverhair, ILuvFLUFFYmarshmellows, Mysticangeldust, Reimei Hoshi, Deviousauthoress1, and fervently by Taisho, Hana. "Will there be any romance between Sesshoumaru and Kagome-san?"

"And?"

"Perhaps."

"They will not be pleased with that."

"Well, the issue is that the plot and character development come before any delectable things of the sexual nature. The writer has the possibility planned though, so the likelihood is high. Patience notwithstanding, everyone should simply enjoy the story and wonder at whatever fortunate twists that might come their way."

"Besides, they have already gotten several kisses, a groping and a lick. They are not deprived."

"A lick?"

"It was platonic."

"So you say," Shiro remarked disbelievingly before returning his sight to his paper and smiling at what he sees. "Ah, I believe this to be one of the best questions of the evening. It is from Sirinya. "I wonder what Shiro would look like if someone drew him?"

"Like a fool."

"Harsh words, but I believe you are commenting out of jealousy."

"Unlikely."

"No one has asked to see what you look like drawn."

"Hn," the Dragon King snorted, "I do not care about such petty things as what people think of me drawn. Besides, there is artwork of myself and unfortunately you as well at the writer's DeviantART, Paperdemon and Dokuga accounts. They can look there if they wish."

"Finally, we have the last question and one that has amused me for some time."

"Somehow, I believe you will be the only one laughing."

"Here it is and it is from Mika Oimikado. "Will Shiro-sama do a silly naked dance with Sesshou-kun?"

"Amazing."

"That is my sentiment as well. Out of respect for the question, I indeed asked my pup if he would do the silly, naked dance with me."

"And his answer?"

"He said no."

"Pity," the king remarked sarcastically. "So, we are finished?"

"I believe so," Shiro replied, turning the paper over several times to check for any queries that slipped his attention. "As we finish, we would like to thank everyone who reads this story and also those who leave reviews and comments for our writer to read. She very much enjoys them and looks forward to them all every time she updates. And one last thought. Do not forget who your favorite nudist is. However, go ahead and forget about Orochi-san. He does not really care."

"Hn, who is the jealous one again?"


	32. Urashima Taro

Chapter Thirty-Two: Urashima Taro

The brilliant rays of midday sun shone down, casting dark, blue shadows within the narrow stairwell carved into the earth and rock. Kagome stood at its bottom, taking a moment to lightly touch the thin layers of sediment that surrounded her. The colors alternated from slate to sepia and seemingly every shade in between. As her gaze rose, the pronounced beds gradually faded, transforming into a single rough stratum of volcanic rock. Curiosity having claimed her, it was a long moment before the school girl realized she was alone in her distraction. She turned and swiftly scaled the steps lest she was forgotten by the frequently indifferent demon she accompanied. The round, smooth stones she treaded upon seemed to grow smaller as she climbed; their familiar shape reminding her of a place whose memory was proving elusive in her rush to the top.

As she quickly ascended, the steps were soon coated in a deepening blanket of fine sand, disturbed in its seamless dusting by the narrow, diamond prints of the tai youkai. At the crest, he was found, standing motionless and silhouetted in sunlight. The warm breeze buffeted against him, gathering locks of his fine, silver hair into the air as it flowed around him. Kagome slowed as she neared and a smile grew on her face as her sight discovered the world that his sparkling, gold eyes had already found.

"The beach," she proclaimed in satisfaction, the mystery of the round stone steps having been solved in one word. She raised her hand to her brow, shading her eyes from the bright sun in the cloudless, sapphire sky. Together they stood upon a dark, igneous outcrop, the porous rock sprinkled heavily with dry sand carried from below by the shifting wind. The land opened up as it descended, smoothing to softly sloping hillsides; the roughness of its surface ebbing under a thickening layer of cream colored sand. As if sentries guarding the hidden shoreline beyond, an interwoven forest of tall, palm trees stood stoically. Sparse at first and then growing countless in number, their heavy tops swayed gently to and fro on smooth, lanky trunks. With broad leaves and colorful, exotic flowers, tropical vegetation besieged the towering giants below at their shallow roots, their persistent efforts in conquest resulting in little avail.

"Let us proceed," the youkai lord spoke up after a long while of cautious listening, his keen ears finding only the benign, muffled rumble of waves meeting the distant seashore and the mellow calls of white gulls lazily gliding on the invisible drafts along the horizon.

Kagome nodded in agreement and the travelers carefully picked their way down the gradually evening slope. Shortly, they entered the lush jungle, forging a path through the tangled undergrowth. Trimming away errant branches with the ease of his claws, Sesshoumaru led the way with an appreciative miko at his back. Soon they were through the thick of it as the foliage retreated in defeat, leaving only the solitary columns of coconut trees between them and the approaching thunder of the ocean. Even the stalwart tree line broke as they met the final embankment. Before them, fading from ivory to dark beige, the sand met the frothing, aquamarine waves of the calm sea.

"Have you deduced which fairy tale--" Sesshoumaru began to ask the woman at his side only to find a pair of overturned loafers and crumpled socks in the place where she had been standing. Springing lightly and with a giddy giggle escaping her lips, Kagome skipped down the slope and across the water-pressed sand. Perfectly shaped footprints doggedly chased her as she met the flowing water ahead with a squeal of delight. Back and forth she ran, fleeing from the approaching waves while alternately pursuing them as they receded.

The youkai lord looked on in marked boredom and mild bewilderment at her amusement among the dousing waves of salt water. Eventually he found a fallen tree in the shade to sit upon when it seemed she would not be returning any time soon, despite the casual glare sent her way. Her energy waning, the school girl ended her foray among the splashing currents, surrendering before the ocean's affection soaked her any more thoroughly.

"Are you satisfied?" the demon asked, eyeing her from sand-caked feet to ruddy cheeks as she approached tiredly.

"Yes," she replied with a satisfied sigh. "That was excellent stress relief. You should try it."

"Perhaps another time," he responded politely, yet unable to mask his mildly disgusted expression at the idea of himself running about the beach chasing waves. "Shall we discuss the fairy tale, now that you are relieved of this stress?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized softly, sitting at the other end of the log as she brushed the clinging sand from her legs and feet. "I don't really know what came over me. After all of these stories where I have to fight bandits and slay centipedes, I just had to feel normal for a moment. Let it all out."

"That is normal?" he questioned with a raised brow.

"Well, more normal," she laughed nervously, stroking a few stray locks of hair behind her ear as she decided that this would be an opportune time to change the subject before she lost any more credibility. "What were the lines of the poem again?"

"A turtle in jeopardy. A fisherman with kindness," he began, recalling the memorized words effortlessly and inviting a brief spike of envy from the school girl. "Journey to the sea. A princess awaits her love. Timeless in her keep."

"It sounds like The Story of Urashima Taro," she interrupted before he could finish, pressing a sand dusted finger to her lip as she thought.

"What is the story?"

"Well, it's about a young fisherman who lives in a small, fishing village," she answered, moving to absently rub her legs and feet as they dried. "Well respected for his fishing prowess and for his unwavering kindness, one day he finds several boys tormenting a stranded turtle on the beach. Being a man of his nature, he offers to pay the children money for the poor animal. They quickly take him up on it and after they leave, he takes the creature back to the ocean to set it free.

The next day while he's out in his boat, the turtle returns and asks him to join it at the underwater palace beneath the sea. Intrigued, he climbs out of his boat and sits on its shell. They go beneath the surface of the ocean where he soon discovers that he can breathe the water like any fish. Soon they arrive at a beautiful castle where he is treated to sumptuous food and entertainment."

"Hn, not all that different from the last one," the demon remarked with a frown as he picked away at the rare grain of sand that had blown onto his clothes from the steady breeze that washed over them.

"Yeah, ironically the palace belongs to the Dragon King of the Sea."

"Indeed," he answered, his expression deepening to a marked scowl.

"I don't think it's the same person and besides he doesn't make an appearance in the story anyways."

"Good."

"So, as the fisherman partakes in all the splendors, he meets the beautiful Oto-hime, daughter of the king. He soon learns that she was in fact the turtle that he had rescued from death at the hands of the careless children. As a token of her gratitude, she asks him to marry her and they stay together in the castle for three wonderful days.

Unfortunately after the third day, Urashima Taro realizes that when he left the surface he had left his family and duties behind. The princess begs him to stay, but he insists upon returning. Saddened by his decision, she offers him one parting gift, a small chest which she makes him swear to never open. A short time later, he leaves for his village.

When he returns to the shore, he rushes home to find his family, but instead discovers a strange man living in his house. Urashima Taro asks him what he is doing there and the man states that this is in fact his house, a place he had lived all his life. Angered at the apparent lie, the fisherman argues with him, telling him who he is. The man shrugs, saying that there has been no one in the village by the name of Urashima Taro for three hundred years.

Confused and distraught, the fisherman leaves and asks the other townspeople what had passed over the last three days, but no matter who he speaks to, the answer is always the same. Three days had not passed, but three hundred years instead. In despair over losing all who he had known, he retrieves the chest and lifts the lid. Smoke pours out and every year that he had been spared returns to him, aging him instantly and taking his life."

"Hn," the youkai lord snorted, "Land will not wait for him. Many suns and moons will pass."

"Yeah," Kagome murmured solemnly. The fairy tale was a good one, but depressing at the same time.

"A box of secrets. Who will bear its gift within? A choice must be made," Sesshoumaru repeated the last line and frowned. "The chest does not carry much of a gift."

"I guess not. I suppose we'll have to find out what that means when the time comes."

"So it would seem."

Leaning forward, the school girl reached for her discarded socks and shoes, mentally debating whether or not it would be best to put them on if she was just going to take them off when they found the turtle and journeyed below the ocean to the palace. It was with that thought that the idea of breathing water like a fish struck her and she smiled. What a strange experience that was going to be.

"Miko?"

"Yeah?"

"Look."

Kagome's eyes rose up, following his gaze to a strange, oval shape stranded on the beach, like a shallow bowl with four long fins protruding at the lip and all waving pitifully in the air. She blinked in disbelief as not a moment earlier the sand had been barren, washed clean even of the impressions she had left from her sojourn in play when she arrived.

"It's the turtle."

The youkai lord nodded wordlessly and moved to stand, inwardly pleased that the reprieve was over. Steadily, he strolled down the damp shore towards the overturned animal with the curious, barefoot miko on his heels. Together they surrounded the pathetic creature as it flailed weakly, its cream, plated underside burning in the hot sun.

"There aren't any children," Kagome observed aloud as she scanned the area with a frown, finding only trees and sand where she looked.

"The fairy tales are never exact it would appear," Sesshoumaru remarked disinterestedly as he knelt cautiously beside the turtle, sure to not let the wet sand touch his white, silk pants. Grasping the rim of the shell, he rocked the animal a few times, before following it with one deft flick of the wrist, flipping it over carelessly. The creature wobbled helplessly in a circular motion before settling on its belly. It glared back at the indifferent demon as malevolently as the wet, marble eyes of a turtle could.

"You could have been gentler," the school girl scolded, placing her hands at her hips disapprovingly "You are Urashima Taro. The kind, fisher lad."

"No, I am Sesshoumaru," the tai youkai corrected with a debilitating glare in her direction. "And I am not kind, a fisher or a lad."

"I guess not," she huffed in defeat before crouching down next to the animal's head to console it in a whisper. "I am sorry about him. He only comes in mean."

"Hn. It would do you well to remember that," he added pointedly, tucking his hand into his sleeve.

She scowled at him, catching easily that his comment was directed at her rather than at the turtle next to her. Softening her expression, she shifted to gaze down at the creature beside her as she lifted her hand to stroke it gently on the head. Her hand though slipped through its skin, touching nothing but air as she waved. She moved it through the animal several more times, watching it disappear as she seemingly penetrated its flesh only to find the soft sand below.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?"

"Hm?"

"I can't touch it." she said, her sight remaining on the creature as worry seeped into her voice. The demon lord stepped beside her, watching over her shoulder as she passed her arm through the turtle again, the implications of the act solidifying in their minds. "If I can't touch it..."

"You cannot ride it," he finished, his brow furrowing as he spoke.

"Then I have to stay here? Stay here for three hundred years?"

"I will not be gone for three hundred years."

"But, the story..."

"I will return shortly," he interrupted, his voice gentler as he locked his cool eyes with her moistening ones. "You will wait but a short time."

"But..."

"Miko?"

"Yeah?"

"Hold out your hands."

"Umm, all right," she replied hesitantly, quickly rubbing her wet eyes with the heels of her hands before extending them towards him. Withdrawing his hand from his sleeve, he smoothly retrieved Tokijin and Tenseiga from his sash, placing their hilts gently in her outstretched hands.

"You want me to hold your swords?" she asked in astonishment, bringing them closer to her face so that she could inspect the master craftsmanship that went into them.

"Return your hands to where they were," he ordered firmly, startling her back into her previous position. Next he unraveled his elaborately tied, yellow belt, folding it carefully before laying it over her proffered arms. His fingers found the leather ties of his heavy armor and he let it slip off his shoulder before weighting it onto her. She nearly buckled under the newly added burden of steel and leather, but held it steadfastly for fear of the youkai's reaction should she get it wet and soiled. It wasn't until he continued his actions after his haori coat was layered neatly onto her that she realized how much he planned on disrobing.

"Wa-wait," Kagome blurted out in a stutter, her face flushing hot as he slipped off his hapi undercoat, revealing his well-developed torso beneath. With the smooth planes of his robust chest and the clearly defined lines of his abs, his body was wrapped in chiseled muscle. As he twisted to face her embarrassment with a furrowed brow of confusion, it rippled beneath the smooth, porcelain skin of his long trunk, causing her blush to grow and darken. A faint sigh and a nearly imperceptible shake of the head later, he dismissed her resulting incoherent mumblings as strange and therefore typical human behavior. With one hand and expert ease, he then folded his undercoat and stacked it with the rest upon the pile, careful to center it so it wouldn't fall.

Gradually the school girl decided to let her evading eyesight return to the half naked demon before her, reminding herself repeatedly that she had seen a fair share of half naked demons in her time. There wasn't anything unusual here. It was just sudden. After all, she had seen Inu-Yasha without his coat and undercoat several times, but mostly he had always been injured, so it was necessary and to be expected. Shiro-sama had started out naked, so there was nothing surprising there. After seeing what he had to offer, what more could faze her? It was all a matter of preparation. 'Now,' she thought with a swallow and a deep, ragged breath, 'She was prepared.'

She peered out from behind the growing mountain of clothing and armor at the youkai lord, her sight growing braver as it washed over every taut curve of his muscular torso. Then it pulled away, drawn strangely to the demon's only imperfection, the slightly darker, ragged scar that ended his arm before the elbow. She thought on the moment he lost it to his younger brother at their father's grave. How frightening he had been then. How intimidating he had been. How ruthless and cruel he had been. And now here he was, weaponless and exposed, giving his former enemy all his possessions without concern. Was he really the same man that she remembered? Was this really Sesshoumaru?

He reached up and scratched his neck lightly with his sharpened nails, unmindful of her thoughts or her gaze. She followed his hand down to his waist, noticing the pair of previously hidden burgundy stripes that were painted there. There was so much about him that was shaded in mystery that it took her a moment to realize that his hand was busily untying the strings of his pants.

"Eep," she squeaked, stumbling back and nearly falling to the ground.

"What is wrong, miko?" the tai youkai finally asked, briefly wondering if he was concerned or curious about her unusual reactions.

"Nothing, nothing," she piped up, steadying herself. "I just don't know how much you're going to take off. By the way, how much are you going to take off?"

"Not much more," he answered boredly, finally understanding her predicament and quietly wishing for his servants who knew how to act when their lord undresses.

"Oh, okay," she replied, hiding her shamefully red face in the silk of his clothes as he added his hakama pants.

"My boots are at your heels," he remarked, addressing the back of her head as that was all he could see. Then the youkai lord paused in place, holding his hand out in front of him as he concentrated. A faint, green glow enveloped him, its flow gradually covering the long pelt he still held over his shoulder. Then with one final burst of youki, it fell away from him. He picked it up off of the wet sand, shaking it lightly to free it of any stray particles of dirt. Then he laid it carefully over the miko's shoulders. She looked up at him as he set it, her vision of him framed with fur and silk.

"You will return, right?" she asked in a desperate tone as he moved to leave her sight. Still barely clothed in a silk fundoshi, the demon faced the slowly departing turtle. In one graceful leap, he lightly sprang upon it as it slipped down the remaining sand and into the waiting tide. "In just a little while? Before I... before I..."

"I have given you all of my worldly possessions for safe keeping, miko," he finally replied, settling down cross-legged on the marbled shell beneath him. "I expect to get them back in as good a condition as I have left them."

"What?"

"I will be unhappy should I return in a few hours and they are in disrepair. Look after them, so that I may be pleased once I am finished. I cannot leave this place without them."

"Oh," she murmured, a smile growing on her lips at the intent of his words. "They will be in better condition, so you better hurry back."

"Indeed," he answered, looking back at her with a mild smile as she teetered half buried in his raiment. "I will expect so."

Then he disappeared beneath the viridian waves.


	33. Oto-Hime

Chapter Thirty-Three: Oto-Hime

The turbulent currents of turquoise churned around the stripped tai youkai as he and his reptilian mount swam through the tide, its tumultuous pulls belying the calm surface above them. He looked up, his vision slightly blurred in the haze of water that enveloped him. Overhead he could see the checkered radiance of the sunlight striking the sea, the diluted rays filtering down and leaving delicate designs of light on his pale skin and on the broad shell of the turtle he rode.

As they descended into the darker teals of the deepening waters, he felt the strain of his lungs, demanding air much like he often demanded respect. Again, his sight drifted up to the departing surface. If he could not breathe water in this story then it was best to discover it now and before the safety of the sky was too far for him to reach.

Slowly he expelled his breath. Strings of bubbles escaped his lips, rising eagerly to the surface above to join their distant brethren overhead. Soon there was nothing left, but the aching pull of his lungs to be filled. Ready with a small, tentative intake of breath, he inhaled the seawater. The fluid coursed into him, unexpectedly seizing his body into a wrenching, coughing fit. He grasped futilely at his chest as more unbidden water invaded his open mouth and nostrils as he gasped. Then as he summoned his youki to propel himself to the surface, his body gradually relaxed, allowing the liquid air that is the ocean to flow in and out of him as naturally as any air above.

'The miko's story did not elaborate well enough on that particular event,' he thought to himself with his mouth bent in an irritated frown as he quelled his aura and resettled himself on the turtle.

Slipping even further into the abyss, the animal nearly grazed the white sand of seafloor, rippled evenly by the constant caress of the tides. Sparingly at first, the knobby, porous formations of coral began to appear. Deceivingly sharp, their pastel rainbows soon carpeted the ocean bed, covering the sand with their alien designs. Hidden safely in the security of their nooks and crannies, the colorful apparitions of fish idled, unsure of the strange visitor who glided on the familiar beast above them.

A shadow loomed over the demon and briefly faded away before returning a moment later. His gaze again traveled above now to see the long silhouettes of hundreds of sharks soaring by in the distance, their odd heads capping their sleek bodies at a strange angle.

Mesmerized by the beautifully eerie sight, he failed to notice the abrupt drop ahead as the continental shelf ended in a sheer cliff. Without ceremony, the turtle descended steeply into the darkness of the chasm. The water chilled the tai youkai's skin and he instinctively tightened his grip on the rim of his mount's shell. The night of the deep consumed the little radiance of the sun that remained so that even the silver glint of his flowing hair was loss to its appetite.

Faint at first, a cool glow slowly warmed in the demon's eyes. The icy currents gradually subsided as they journeyed closer to the welcoming beacon of light surrounded by the inescapable dark. Towering columns of rock furnaces revealed themselves from the shadows as the travelers closed in. Hot, bubbling gases escaped from their peaks, heating the sea around them. Brightening with every stroke of fin, the glow broadened and the beast beneath him shifted in its glide, leveling the approaching sanctuary ahead of them.

Shapeless initially in the fog of the black ocean, the growing radiance before them began to take form. Soon the outline of a broad castle made of enormous seashells appeared, contrasting harshly with the sheer, onyx rock it was nestled against. The ripples of scallop, the spirals of conch and the fans of oyster; these countless shells formed the walls, the roofs and the towers and all were illuminated in a brilliant, white glow.

The turtle paused in its flight through the water, hovering above a soft blanket of sea anemones, their strange blossoms radiating with a blue light. Their numbers seemed endless as they formed a glowing path to the palace a short distance away. Slipping from its hard back, the tai youkai landed lightly on the flora below, the blooms he touched withdrawing promptly into tight buds under the slight pressure of his feet. Free of its rider, the turtle swiftly swam away, gliding high above and towards the waiting castle.

Sesshoumaru watched it until it was merely a speck against the massive palace and then disappeared altogether. When it was gone, he leveled his sight on the luminous structure at the end of the road. The water around him felt strangely thin, the weightlessness of the ocean lost as he began to step down the pathway. With each careful footfall he made, the anemones closed, leaving a lingering trail of dark footprints to mar the once unblemished way he had been.

The road ended at the gradual arch of a giant oyster shell whose broad, glowing surface resembled a gentle cascade of steps. At the peak, an archway stood, formed from the downward placement of an open scallop, its two shells still joined at the apex. Floating effortlessly in the water before it, an eel undulated. Points of light gracing its sleek form and a glow escaping its mouth as it casually yawned; it waited patiently as the demon approached.

Then in a swift sudden motion, it circled the youkai lord like an iridescent whip. He raised his hand defensively in case the creature had any sinister designs for his person, but soon relaxed, marveling at the speed the agile animal spiraled around him. The lights that illuminated it moved like streaks as it swam, his eye barely catching more than the afterglow of the eel as it passed through his vision.

Strangely satisfied, it stopped as abruptly as it had begun, zigzagging away towards the arch before pausing in its flight. With a flick of its transparent, tail fin, it beckoned its guest. Lightly furrowing a brow and folding his arm comfortably against his bare chest, Sesshoumaru followed his nimble guide into the castle.

OOOOOOOOOO

The walls of the narrow corridor glowed brightly as they traveled through it, their smooth appearance resembling the thin flesh of giant, overlapping fish fins complete with the delicate spines that framed them. The floor beneath the soft, padding steps of his bare feet shimmered like mother of pearl, its surface glossy and pure like the sheen found within the open shell of an oyster.

The eel slipped through the water of the hall, twisting in play every so often before settling back into an easy glide as it led the demon lord through the labyrinth of passages and quaint courtyards of the palace. From simple rock gardens to elaborate crystal monuments of sea life, the castle appeared ceaseless in its exotic wonders. Finally the animal came to a stop, coiling through the liquid air before a broad sliding door made from a single clamshell filed flat to suit the entryway. Using its narrow snout to point, it gestured to the shallow handle carved into the door.

Self-assuredly, the tai youkai stepped forward, grasping the handle and sliding open the deceivingly light door. Gliding easily down its track, its absence revealed a sprawling, open-air room. Fine silks of rich teal, fuchsia and purple draped across its length; their gold dipped ends weightlessly fluttering nearly to the polished floor below.

Sesshoumaru stepped through the threshold, brushing the fabric from his path as he walked through the room. Like drops of water falling in a cavern, a giggle echoed, stopping him in his tracks as he cast about guardedly for its source.

"My, my, what do we have here?" a sultry, feminine voice asked as it poured through the liquid air

"Where are you?" the demon ordered, disregarding her question as he slowly moved through the waving cloth surrounding him. He scowled as he listened for her movement, the water and strange echoes distorting his hearing.

"I am before you, love. You only need to look," she laughed effervescently, her voice retaining a rich purr through her amusement. "Come to me."

Not caring to dignify her command with an answer, the tai youkai moved stealthily as he wove his way forward towards the center of the room. He parted the final panel of silk and found his quarry.

Reclined alluringly on a shimmering bed of pearls, the slender figure of a woman lay, biting her lip tenderly as her violet eyes roamed in appreciation at his sight. Pale blue in tone, her skin glittered faintly in pink and lavender in the low light of the room. Draped loosely over her shoulders and bound at her waist, her fuchsia kimono hung off her lithe body, concealing little with its transparent fabric. Coiled around her arm, the eel rested, its lights growing red under the gentle ministrations of her stroking fingers. Her eyes never leaving the demon before her, she pulled the creature close to her glistening, dark violet lips, setting a soft kiss on its cheek. It writhed excitedly at the caress of her touch.

"Be gone, my pet," she finally whispered to it in a soothing tone as the animal slowly calmed. Its lights still burning bright, it whipped away in a blur of radiance, sending the floating silks high into the liquid air as it passed. "You though," she added as she leaned forward, the dark tips of her full breasts pressing against the inside of her delicate robe. "You will stay."

"Who are you?" the youkai lord demanded, ignoring her command again.

"Me? I am Oto-hime, the daughter of the Dragon King of the Sea. I am your love, Urashima Taro."

"I am not he," he answered stoically.

"Really?" she replied with a soft moan of pleasure as she stretched her supple body and then rose to her knees. Achingly slow, she crawled to the foot of her jewel filled bed, her silken robe falling from her shoulders, nearly exposing her before she met the end. "I only see a fisher-boy before me and a fine one at that. Why would anyone, but my love appear before me in so little clothing?"

"Armor and silk do not weather saltwater well."

"A practical fisher-boy, I see," she remarked coolly as she stood, her navy hair bound perfectly upon her head with shells and starfish decorating it. "But still a fisher-boy. Come to me, love. Allow me to spoil you with every desire imaginable."

"I do not wish for anything, but the chest."

"Not three days have passed and you wish to return to the surface," she commented in mock disappointment as she strolled towards him, her hips swaying seductively with every step. "You would deny yourself what you deserve?"

"I will deny myself what I like. Now retrieve the chest for me."

"Pity," she remarked as she approached him, reaching out smoothly to touch his exposed skin. He grasped her hand firmly, gripping it tightly as his eyes narrowed severely on her. She gasped lightly in delight at his strength, stroking his clenched hand with the fingers of her free hand. He felt his nerves prickle then ease at her soothing caress, loosening his grip and freeing her. He blinked in bewilderment, staring at his open hand in confusion. Playing into his momentary distraction, she continued her touch, dragging her nails lightly along the tightly corded muscles of his thick forearm and bicep, setting his nerves on fire with every lingering caress. Her fingers found the fine ripple of his broad shoulder, slipping down his powerfully built back. Wetting her lips in anticipation, she let her hand slip to his exposed rounded cheeks, delighting in the firmness that she found there. "You are quite a strapping boy, my love."

"What are you doing to me?" he demanded, his baritone voice deepening huskily as he pivoted away from her and her dangerous touch. She looked up at him demurely with her sparkling, violet eyes, a long, purple fingernail of her hand held evocatively between her teeth.

"Encouraging you to stay," she replied at last, stepping towards him again, her body moving with a fluid grace. "I will have you for three days, perhaps more. I will not be denied."

"And I will not be commanded," he snarled as he sublimated the growing desire her sensuous touch had stirred. Moving like a flash of silver and beige, his clawed hand found her elegant neck, raising her delicate figure into the liquid air. "Give me the chest. Now."

"You are a silly fisher-boy," she purred, her nails again finding his skin. This time he was ready and he focused his thoughts, concentrating on every muscle of his arm and hand, willing them to contract as her touch sought to loosen them. His breaths became heavy; sweat beading on his smooth skin and slipping down the firm, muscular curves of his torso. He would not lose to himself. The indignity of it alone kept his hold tight as he increased the pressure of his grip. Then he felt it. Subtle at first, but it was undeniably there. The repelling force of the barrier. Could she be one of them?

"Who are you?' he demanded again behind clenched teeth as he felt his strength waning before her persistent attentions.

"Who am I?" she repeated, unfazed by his attack and moaning happily at his slowly weakening grip. "I am Oto-hime."

"No, who are you beyond this realm? Who were you?"

She giggled softly as his hand fell away in defeat, allowing her to land agilely on the floor below.

"I was the earth god maiden, Kushinada-hime. Susanou's wife. I was his and now you are mine, my love."


	34. The Fallen Maiden

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Fallen Maiden

Hot and corrosive, a brilliant green cloud of acid spoiled the water between the goddess and the demon. Then he was gone, leaving her alone in the plume of boiling poison. Burning bubbles and blue sparks sizzled around her as she stepped through the slowly diluting fog, its wispy tendrils loosening as it dissipated.

"You are more squid than dog, my love," Oto-hime chided with a growing pout as she surveyed her quickly dissolving robes, her soft skin beneath unbroken. "If you wished for me to remove my raiment, all you had to do was ask." With a graceful shrug, the tattered garment fell to her heels and she smoothly stepped out of it.

Several panels of silk away, the tai youkai hid from view behind the billowing fabric. He was not in the habit of retreating and a pang of annoyance grew behind his temples at the idea of it, let alone the act. He had had little choice though. She was no ordinary opponent and neither were her attacks.

He looked down at his fist, clenching and unclenching it as he felt his strength slowly returning. Seizing his eye as it shimmered faintly, the pink and lavender glitter of her skin remained behind where she had massaged his hand earlier. Still tingling his flesh lightly, its effect stirred his blood with an unrelenting desire. He followed the thin trails she had drawn along his muscled arm with her nails, their delicate paths venturing past his shoulder. He reached behind himself, his questing fingers finding his lower back and his firm, exposed cheeks. They soon returned with what she had left, a fresh coat of the glittering salve that both excited his nerves as well as soothed them.

Sesshoumaru leaned out past the floating silk, his vision finding only the fuchsia, teal and purple of the hanging cloth. He sighed mildly as he thought; a successful plan of action was not forthcoming. He had no swords, no armor and no clothing that mattered. His claws and poison were useless with the barrier of the scroll protecting her from harm. If her entire body was dipped in the ointment, then close combat was an ever growing disadvantage, multiplying easily if there was nothing left of her thin kimono to clothe her shapely figure.

Snared at the notion of her nubile body, his mind easily hovered over the curves of her hips and the fullness of her breasts; all relieved of the translucent fabric she wore. An uninvited heat built in his loins as his thoughts continued to linger on her supple body. Soon, the image of it was writhing against him in ecstasy, her rapid breaths at his ear and her nails in his back. Catching himself, the youkai lord snarled and bit at his lip, hoping the prick of pain would dispel the growing carnal craving she had enticed with her caresses a moment before. A thin line of red trickled where his fang pierced his lip. 'This was not good.'

His sight then filled with the warmth of magenta as the silk he hid behind swelled wide in the currents of the room. He leaned back as he examined it, feeling the strength of its weave with his fingertips. An idea formed in the demon's mind and with a precise swipe of claw, a strip of the fabric drifted down into his waiting grasp. All he needed to do now was to distract her.

"How is it that the beloved wife of Susanou is a prisoner in a place that only holds his enemies?" Sesshoumaru called out in question, twirling the torn cloth into a tightly twisted length of rope.

"You wish to know my story?" she asked suspiciously, strolling unhurriedly around her bed, letting her hand graze the ivory pearls as she awaited his doubtless return. "You are not the type to wonder at such things."

"Tch," he snorted with a fresh scowl at her unerring insight. "You do not know me, woman."

"I know men and your deception is loss."

"You will not tell me it, even as I am your love?"

"Love?" she laughed melodiously, a faint note of venom tingeing her voice. "That I may share if you desire it so. I will tell you the wonders of love."

"Hn. If you would be so generous, I should hear it."

"Very well," she replied in accession, curling her finger in a long lock of navy hair that hung before her ear. "You may hear my sordid tale of love if it pleases you. It begins many, many years ago, with an old, earth god couple who had eight beautiful daughters and lived in a great mountain near a river. One day, an evil serpent with eight heads happened upon them enjoying the waters that flowed there. Spying their vulnerability, the gluttonous beast eagerly demanded a sacrifice lest it devoured the whole family. Fearful and cowardly, the couple quickly offered their eldest daughter to satiate the dragon's appetite. The largest head snapped the maiden up greedily, but with eight heads in all, how could one fragile goddess satisfy it when there were seven other equally hungered mouths waiting to taste?

So the serpent departed only to return the next year, demanding another daughter. Without hesitation, the gods offered it the second eldest. The next head of the beast swallowed her down, savoring her blood and purity with every crunch. Satisfied, it slithered away as it had done before and as one might expect such evil to do, it returned at the same time the following years. And each time it came back, it desired another sacrifice and each time the couple chose the next eldest daughter until the eighth year arrived and they had but one. Me."

"I had known my fate," Oto-hime continued, rolling a glossy pearl between her fingers, her eyes focusing on her hazy reflection of its smooth surface. "For seven years I had watched my sisters die their gruesome deaths at the jaws of that vile beast. To a greater degree, I accepted it, knowing that I would soon join my sisters wherever gods go when they die. My parents were far more terrified than I by its impending arrival. Once their last child was gone, what would become of them at the jaws of the monster? They had nothing left to offer but themselves.

The day before the dragon was expected to arrive; a lone man in heavy, samurai armor approached our place at the head of the river. Seeing my parent's misery, he asked why they wept to which they replied in lie, saying that they were mourning the loss of their daughters and more so for the final one that they were about to lose to the beast's insatiable hunger. With a crooked smile and a strange gleam in his eyes, the warrior keenly listened when my parents described the eight-headed serpent. When they were finished, he quickly offered to slay the creature, but only if he could take me as his bride for he had fallen in love at my sight. Expecting to lose their daughter regardless of what the next day brought and finding renewed hope for their survival in his confidence, they easily accepted and I was given to the man. For safe keeping, he took me aside and transformed me into a fine tooth, kanzashi comb. Unable to move, I could only observe the world from my spot pinned in his dark hair.

Renowned for their skill with rock and drink, the warrior next asked for their aid in setting a trap for the dangerous dragon. In the night and in accordance to the man's instructions, my father crafted a massive platform of stone with eight vats around the rim and my mother brewed a sake refined eight times, its sweet scent inundating the countryside with an intoxicating fog.

The beast arrived as expected the following morning. Lured by the pure drink poured into the stone troughs, it easily forgot about its hunger and chose instead to satisfy its thirst. Glutted on the potent liquor, it soon laid down in drunken contentment. The cunning man slipped out of the shadows and slashed at the prone beast, severing its heads with his blade. He left one untouched, the youngest head and the one whose satisfaction I was meant for. The sinister delight he entertained at leaving it to survive should have been my first warning for what would soon be awaiting me. I was relieved instead. No matter how well I prepared for my inevitable death, I truly did not wish to die.

Relentlessly the warrior assaulted the beast, long after all but the one had perished. My parents were pleased with his seeming thoroughness, their assuredness at their own continued existence growing with every cut as he rent the serpent into a thousand pieces. Finally his blade struck and shattered against his quarry in the eldest dragon's tail. Through the blood and mangled flesh, he retrieved a shining sword, the fabled Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi.

In a hurried manner, we departed soon after, traveling far from the mountain of my family. To be honest, I was not unhappy at leaving the place of my birth and I was only honored more when I discovered that my seemingly human husband was none other than the great god of the seas and storms, Susanou.

That night he took me, consummating our joining with his rough touch. Despite the pain, I did not mind it. I was a possession and such a fate for a wife is not uncommon or shameful. When he was satisfied, I was turned into a comb once more and placed in his hair. Time passed unchanging, a kanzashi by day and the object of his desire by night. He slew the serpent for me and I found solace in the love he had shown in that singular act. Then a night came to pass that he did not call on me at all. I stayed affixed in his hair throughout the evening, unbidden and untouched.

Days blended into weeks and then into months as I remained in my solitude, serving my only purpose by holding his oily locks in place. Using his newly acquired blade, Susanou fought and conquered the land, driving out the vicious warlords from their comfortable places where they exploited the farmers and villagers around them. He cleansed the world of their evil intent and garnered the adoration of the desperate and oppressed. Bowing before their new savior, they celebrated him with sumptuous feasts and pleasured him with gifts of exotic treasure and nubile women.

He enjoyed every excess freely and I looked on from my perch, neither honored nor respected for my stature as his wife. I tasted no feast and I wore no treasure. There was no admiration for my position at his side, only the grinding sway beneath my grip as he relieved his lust within every untasted maiden he was given.

Perhaps Susanou sensed my growing discontent or perhaps he was bored with his mortal toys and wanted to feel the flesh of a goddess again. He called on me, expecting my usual willingness to please him and finding my wrath in its place. I cursed him and demanded to know how he could treat so foully his greatest treasure, the woman whom he had slain the feared Yamata-no-Orochi for. He laughed cruelly at my words and it was then that I learned what he had truly desired from his battle with the ill-fated dragon. His treasure had been Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi and nothing else."

"Only the sword?" Sesshoumaru murmured softly under his breath as he wove through the swaying silks in silence, seeking his opportunity.

"He had learned of the blade's existence long before he had dug it from the butchered serpent's tail. Why else would he have split it so unrelentingly if it was not to search for the famed Sword of the Gathering Clouds of Heaven? He though could not slay the formidable beast without a cowardly trick and for that he needed the famed abilities of the gullible earth couple who were conveniently being tortured by the same dragon. He was clever in his approach though. Knowing if he entreated their aid without asking for anything in return, they would grow suspicious of his intent. Perhaps they would even discover his goal and deny him their talents. Worse yet, they could grow bold and devise their own plan to gain the sword. Legendary in name, Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi was one of the three greatest treasures of heaven and earth and the one he planned to present to Amaterasu so that he would be forgiven for his insults to her station and regain his status as a god. He could not fail in his acquisition of it and he knew what to ask for in order to gain it. If he desired my hand in marriage, then I would seem to be his prize and the sword only a fortunate happenstance.

I had sensed his deceit the years before when I was at the mercy of my parent's selfish wishes. The unseemliness of his bravery for a woman he professed to love but had scarcely met. My desperation to survive and my naiveness at the treachery of the world clouded my judgment and I had not noticed his true intent until that moment. "A means to an end" he maliciously called me before he shaped me into a comb yet again and this time I expected forever.

Eventually, his apparently good works upon the mortal realm of earth garnered the attention of his compassionate sister. Skeptical of his changed nature, but unable to deny his recent deeds, Amaterasu granted her exiled brother an audience. One day she appeared before him amid a field blooming brightly, nurtured by the decayed bodies of his slain foes. Her eyes never looked beyond the gleaming brilliance of the sword he presented. Like all gods of the heavens, kindly or not, her greed and pride were insurmountable before such a wondrous gift. She carelessly returned the powers of the oceans and storms to Susanou without further thought and ascended to the heavens with her newly acquired treasure.

Stretching his reach with his newly regained strength, he drew the dark, menacing clouds of a growing storm around him. Hail and rain poured from the black sky as a tempest raged, pounding the earth as the evil god laughed wickedly at his own power. Days passed as the wind whipped and water flooded the land. He remained in place, immersed in his own deluge as he recited incantations under his breath.

Then the storm dissipated, allowing the banished sun's warm rays to pierce the heavy clouds to the battered world below. Seven days had passed since he had begun and in his hands now were two scrolls. After that moment, I remember nothing, but for the last time I would ever see the sun as the darkness overtook me."

A sudden heat warmed her back as she finished and the fierce grip of the tai youkai seized her wrist.

"I do not care for deceit, hime," the demon lord whispered coolly into her ear as he pinned her arm behind her back. "And while my desire for your tale was merely an attempt to distract your attention, I appreciate the enlightenment it bestowed. Now, where is the chest?"


	35. Exile

Chapter Thirty-Five: Exile

With a cold demeanor and without restraint, Sesshoumaru struck out hard at the back of the nude goddess' knees with a silk wrapped foot. She collapsed to her shins under the rough blow before he slammed her body the rest of the way to the ground, using her pinned arm as leverage. The smooth, polished floor fractured in a web of cracks as she landed hard against it and a flash of blue sparks illuminated around the maiden as the barrier kept her from serious harm. The tai youkai swiftly ground his fabric bound knee into her caught forearm at her back, allowing him to free his hand from her wrist. Sure of her immobility, he reached for her unrestrained arm, the cloth protecting his hand from her skin absent at his fingers as he grasped it. He swallowed down at the renewed urge her exposed flesh inspired in him as he brought the newly snared wrist beside the other. The demon shifted slightly to anchor her dangerous hands together under the weight of his knee, minding the potential reach of her fingers so all that their questing would bring them would be nothing but silk.

Taking from his waistband the length of twisted fabric he had crafted while the distracted goddess spoke her tale, the youkai lord placed one end of the tether between his teeth. Next he leaned back cautiously, revealing her wrists and quickly wound the other end around them tightly, ever mindful to never let his fingers touch her flesh. The rope cut harshly into her skin as he yanked the ends, igniting more sparks of blue light at the pressure. With a curious juggling between his fangs and hand, the demon knotted her bindings securely. Satisfied with its effectiveness as he strummed the taut fabric with his fingers, he rose off her prone figure.

"You will tell me of the chest's location, hime," Sesshoumaru commanded coldly, grasping her by the only place her shimmering salve did not touch, the tight bun of her hair. Slowly, he lifted her off of the ground, his nails entangled in her locks as he dangled her above the cracked floor. "I have no patience for games."

"Patience?" she questioned haughtily in her sultry voice, the first sound it had made since he had caught her. "You have little notion of such a thing. Here time is my bedfellow and patience is its loving caress."

"Give me the chest. You are caught," he demanded again, glaring at the back of her head, warily avoiding the distraction of her stripped body.

"No, love. You are."

Graceful and nimble, her smooth movements were unhurried to his swift eyes, yet as he moved forward to slam her down to the floor again, he rapidly realized that he was markedly slower than she. Tucking her thighs against her chest, the goddess scooped her fettered hands under her rounded butt and pointed toes. Completing the arc of motion, she brought them above her head, seeking the carved chopstick that bound her hair in place. In a cascade of unfurling locks, she fell from his tight grip, sending a smirking smile over her shoulder at his perplexed expression. She landed low on the cool, lustrous floor and pivoted onto her tethered palms as she brought a hard, sweeping kick against the youkai lord's legs. Unable to do more than watch as his feet gave out beneath him, he stumbled back towards her bed. Then she was upon him, her forceful spring onto his waist sending him into it in a splash of ivory pearls.

"I have you," she purred contentedly as she rubbed against his naked, muscular torso, inviting an involuntary, shuddering breath from him as the glittering ointment of her warm skin found his flesh. "It seems you did not have enough time to protect your entire body from mine. Just the parts that you knew would touch."

"How?" he growled behind grinding teeth, fighting the burning heat of desire her brushing skin cultured deep within him.

"Fifteen hundred years," she answered easily, anticipating his question. "Fifteen hundred years of living in this deep sea. Did you believe that you would be as swift as you are on land here in the water? That in a few hours you would be as agile as me?" She snorted lightly before leaning close to his elfin ear in whisper. "You are not the only one who can feint, love. You are not the only one who knows how to deceive. I have learned from the best."

Then her moist, violet lips dipped and she nibbled lightly on the sensitive skin of his ear. With a mix of an eager groan and a wrathful snarl, the demon growled again behind gritted fangs as her dull teeth teased the delicate cartilage and then the soft flesh of his lobe. Wrenching his hand into a fist out of frustration, his sharp nails pierced his skin, drawing rivulets of crimson where they punctured before grinding into the blue light of the barrier that protected him. Glaring in silence, he wished to crush her elegant neck in his clawed hand. He wished to rip out her delicate throat in a brilliant red spray of blood. He wished to boil away her wanton body in a wave of acidic poison. Yet as she dragged her wet tongue down the grooves of his throat, his wishes, like his strength faded before her skilled ministrations.

"Susanou tailored this tale to suit me," she spoke in a husky voice in between tastes of his porcelain skin. "In the beginning, I was never destined to meet Urashima Taro and he crafted my prison without the fisher boy for a reason. You see, my anger with my husband was never about his roughness or his infidelity. It was being denied the treatment a woman of my status deserved. If I am to be a possession, then I ought to have the attentions that an object like me deserves. After all, does one let an enchanted sword rust, let precious jewelry tarnish or fine silk be soiled?"

Sesshoumaru's breath hitched as her long, loose locks of navy hair draped down to tickle his skin as she traced her tongue down the hard line of his collarbone and her painted nails found the fine and few silver hairs of his broad chest.

"Spite ruling his hand, here he put me," she added as she set a searing kiss in the dip at the base of his throat, "It would seem he meant to give me all that I desired; a beautiful palace, bountiful feasts, dutiful servants and wondrous treasures. All of the gifts suited for a queen, for his wife and yet no one to share it with. There are no guests who come to my door. No family to be proud of what I have gained. No husband to share in my wealth. Only a fitting punishment for my ingratitude, as Susanou would say."

Her nails slipped to the demon's sides, feeling the play of the fine, interwoven muscles that lay under her gentle caress. Her lips brushed against the smooth skin of his robust chest, seeking a tight nipple. He growled angrily as he groaned, her tongue washing over the hardened tip she had found. The resolve of his mind and the desire of his body in conflict, the tai youkai banged his head weakly against the soft layer of pearls under him, sending a few clattering to the floor. The discipline of his mind was weakening as the primal urges of his body slowly grew.

"Left in utter solitude," she continued, her skillful fingers tracing their way down his long trunk with her tongue soon to follow as her mouth found the first of the rippled muscles of his taut stomach. "I waited futilely for someone to relieve me of my loneliness. There is no torture such as being deprived of companionship in the absolute darkness of the vast ocean. So imagine my fortune when one day, a fisher boy appeared at my steps. I could see his true form through the thin veil of magic, the pitiable, human monk that he was. Lost and confused, he told me of his plight. He told me of his entrapment within the scroll and of him and his comrade's continuing trek to escape it. That now he was meant to play the part of Urashima Taro. And that he needed the magical chest from me to finish his role so that he could return to his unfortunate friend who was waiting alone for him at the surface.

However, benevolence was not with me, but desperation instead. How could I surrender my chance to connect with another after hundreds of years of empty solitude? The chest would not be given to this pathetic man so easily for I needed him and I was willing to give him anything that he desired to keep him. And keep him I did."

Oto-hime leaned away from the demon, resting to one side with her soft breasts still grazing the flesh of his torso. The nimble fingers of her free hand danced across his skin, leisurely meandering to the deep groove of his waist. She bit her lip in eagerness as she dangerously traced the silken waistband of his fundoshi with her nail.

"After three days he was forced by the nature of the scroll to leave," she said as her lips found the youkai lord's stomach again, leaving open mouthed kisses as she trailed down the thin, groomed hair that filed down its center. "Strangely, I somehow knew he would not be the last and that is when I began my work to perfect my talents in seduction. It is amazing what secrets the ocean's depths hold and how fortunate time can be when one needs to tease them out. Aphrodisiacs abound if you know where to look and as the daughter of sake brewers, such potions are easily concocted. " Her tender kisses stopped at the cool, silk fabric and she licked her lips as she prepared to breach the cloth border. "Perhaps you will find solace in that you are only one of many who have fallen to me. My fate has never been mine to control, but I will settle on commanding another's, if only for so brief a moment as three days."

She slipped her fingers along the brim of his undergarment when a warm arm reached for her, snaking around her waist. The demon pulled her up the length of his body, embracing her fully against him. She shuddered in pleasure at the strength of his hold, feeling the unbridled desire that coursed through his muscles. Pressed hard against his chest, her violet eyes were soon staring into the cold fury of his amber orbs.

"Then you are no better than the one who imprisoned you here," Sesshoumaru managed through ragged breaths as the lingering remnants of his resolve finally slid from his grasp. Then his eyes dulled as they lost their rage and he closed them to lean forward, seeking to kiss her soft lips. Unexpectedly, it was the emptiness of air that greeted him where the alluring seductress' mouth had once been. Blinking in puzzlement, he looked up to find her slipping out of his firm grip as she sat back, straddled around his stomach.

"No better than the one who imprisoned me here?" she repeated softly, her eyes growing glossy and reddening from tears that could never be seen in a world of water. "Somehow, in all this time, I have fallen further than I thought."

Gracefully, Oto-hime leaned forward, taking an elegant hand to gently brush away the short, silver bangs that framed the youkai lord's face. "Your eyes were so much like my own. Filled with bitter anger and comfortable resentment as you lost your control to another, and yet somehow it seems that this was not the first time you have held such a look. You could only be another lonely son of the Clan of Shiro."

"My fate within my clan is my own," he spoke quietly, his strength growing slightly in her doubt. "I do not lay it on others."

"No, you do not," she smiled weakly, placing a nail to his lip, "But your isolation is by your own choice and one you could just as easily unmake."

"Hn," he snorted gently at the truth of her words, "Perhaps you are right, but in this moment it is you who has the choice, not I. Will you remain like the one which you hate for the momentary reprieve of loneliness?"

Sighing heavily, she laid her head against his chest, indulging her ears in the soothing beat of his heart, in the sound of another. She lingered there for a long, quiet moment, soaking up his feeling against her body before slipping away from him and off her jeweled bed.

Slowly he eased up to sit, his wary gaze following her and her soft, padding steps to a low dresser with a singular bottle upon its surface. Twisting her wrists, she expertly slipped out of the tight bindings he had tied, raising his brow with growing respect for her skills. She then slid open a black, lacquered drawer, her fingers finding a dark, fuchsia robe within it and she wrapped her nude body in the opaque garment. When she was finished, the goddess then took the lonely vial from atop of the dresser. The shimmering liquid within the clear, crystal bottle glowed pink in her hand and she returned to the demon, her sleeves fluttering in the currents as she strolled.

"Drink this, love," she spoke sweetly, offering him the potion, "It will quell your nerves and relieve you of your unbidden desires." He took it cautiously, eyeing her expression for the subtle signs of deceit, but sincerity was what he found and the slight knit of sorrow in her elegant brow. As he swallowed the concoction down, she whispered incantations under her breath. Then in her open hands, a small box with the sheen of mother-of-pearl faded into existence.

"The chest?" he asked finally, wiping away at any of the potion that had leaked from his lips with a gentle swipe of his fingers.

"Yes," she answered, her violet sight finding his. "It is no ordinary chest and it is not necessarily your years that lay within it."

"What do you mean?"

"You are fortunate compared to your predecessor who could not dissuade me from my intent with his brash foolishness. Only half the time he endured has come to be and simply a third of a day will have passed here once you return to the surface."

"And for the miko who has awaited my return above?"

"Thirty-five years will have been taken from her."

"Hn," he murmured, a scowl of concern gracing his features.

"But, with your mercy, it can be undone. Open the chest when you return and the years she has lost will be stolen from you instead and given to her. However, if you leave the chest for her to unfasten, all that has passed will remain the same."

With a nod, he slid off of the bed and took the box from the goddess' hands. Bowing solemnly in deference, he then pivoted away towards the waiting doorway beyond the flowing silks.

"Which will you choose, love?"

He paused in his step, coolly spying at her with his indifferent, golden stare.

"I vowed to return to her before she perished. I owe her nothing else."

"Then you do not love her?"

"No," he replied coldly. "She is only a human to me."

Then he disappeared behind the billowing fabric, leaving the maiden again to her solitude beneath the waves.


	36. Time

Chapter Thirty-Six: Time

"Why do I have to do this?" the school girl grumbled loudly under and in between her steady, labored breaths. The light sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead and on her ruddy cheeks as her complaint promptly tapered into a frustrated growl.

"Because, Kagome-sama," a mirthful, masculine voice reminded her gently, "You should know how."

"Just let me go to my bag and I'll show you how," she countered quickly with a fleeting smile at her own cunning as she began to rise off her dust caked knees.

"Nah, ah, ah," the voice piped in as a young man in navy and purple robes settled down into a crouch next to her, easily blocking her view of and route to her weathered and torn salvation, the faded yellow backpack across the freshly made camp. "You will have to do better than that if you plan to trick me. And look, now you have lost your rhythm. Tsk, tsk, my lady."

"Arrgh, Miroku," she groaned as she slumped back down in the fine impression her kneeling legs had left in the soft dirt. Acquiescing as far as she intended to and in one final act of defiance, Kagome dropped the long, roughly sharpened stick she had been fervently gripping before. "I have matches in my bag."

"That is not the point."

"It is the point," she reasoned angrily before gesturing at him and in the direction of her worn pack. "I can do this in two seconds if you just let me go over there."

"And what will you learn if you do?"

"That the future is wonderful."

"The future is convenient, not wonderful," he remarked knowingly, picking up the stick with his bead entangled hand, the carved tip black and charred. "And missing a few, important lessons."

"That's because we don't need to learn them," the school girl argued adamantly as her sepia stare burrowed into the soft, violet eyes of the monk. "We have matches, lighters and electricity. The whole fire situation is thoroughly taken care of."

"But, it isn't here, Kagome-chan," a sweet, feminine voice spoke up as a young, beautiful woman in a modest dress stepped next to Miroku, taking care to stand on the side of his occupied hand. Perched quietly on her shoulder sat a small, adorable, cat demon with large, crimson eyes and smooth, ivory fur. "What will you do if you don't have your matches, your lighters or even this electricity you speak of?"

"I always have them, because I always have my bag," Kagome answered stubbornly, crossing her arms against her chest and ignoring the smears her soot stained fingers were leaving on her white blouse. Her look left the monk and found the taijiya. "It hasn't been a problem so far. If I'm not worried about it, then you shouldn't worry about it."

"Kagome-chan-"

"Let her do what she wants," the gruff voice of the hanyou interrupted from above. He lay sprawled comfortably upon a broad limb, leisurely watching the growing spectacle with his wild, golden eyes. With the joining scowls of Miroku and Sango lifting to face him, the half-demon propped his head up into a clawed hand and remained unfazed in his detachment despite their debilitating glares.

"Thank you, Inuyasha," the school girl thanked him with a pleased smile as she shifted to stand up. "At least you understand since you've actually been to the future."

"Yeah, it don't hurt me if you're the only one 'round who can't make fire. Hell, even Shippou and Kirara can make it. Not like we need you to do it if we're in a bind."

"What?!"

"Just being honest," he shrugged in his dusty and stained, fire-rat coat, rubbing his nose with the casual brush of a finger before casting about lazily. "Where's Shippou anyway? Let's just have him do it and call it done."

"That's unfair," Kagome yelled in frustration, the fury of her words directed unswervingly on the mop-headed hanyou overhead. "He doesn't even use the stick method! It's foxfire and Kirara uses her youkai powers as well. She's got flames that come out of her feet!"

"Pew," the cat demon chirped proudly from her spot on Sango's shoulder.

"Feh, it's still natural," Inuyasha followed with another impartial shrug. "If ya could make fire from your feet then this fight woulda ended a while ago and we'd be eatin' by now."

"That's it! Give me the stick, Miroku!" the school girl demanded heatedly, plucking it from the monk's grip before he could answer. "And you," she commanded sternly, her pointed stick and hot glare planted firmly on the half-demon. "We would not be eating right now, because you haven't caught us anything for dinner. Now go!"

"Feh!" he replied flippantly as he begrudgingly rose to his calloused feet. With his face twisted into a scowl, the hanyou growled as he muttered about demanding women. "There better be a fire when I get back, woman."

"Oh, believe me there will be," she laughed haughtily as she put the point of the stick into the blackened groove of another piece of wood with a ready nest of dried grass beside it. "There better be fish or a rabbit in your hand when you get back."

"Feh!" he snorted again with growing defiance as he turned on his heel, careful to not let the now determined school girl see his sly smile. Then off the branch he sprang and into the slowly dimming sunset.

OOOOOOOOOO

"C'mon, c'mon," Kagome murmured softly in whisper as she rolled a smooth, gray stick rapidly between her open palms. Kneeling in the gritty sand, she sat hunched over a flat shard of torn driftwood. At a glance, the piece seemed too fragile for the furious drilling she exacted upon it. The poorly whittled point of her stick though did not fracture the wood as it ground, but instead gradually produced a growing pile of dark ash.

Her eyes never shifted from the cinders, watching intently for the thin wisps of smoke and the promise of an orange glow in the black powder. She bit her lip tenderly as the sting of impending blisters burned from her raw hands. The salty tang of sweat met her tongue when she tasted her lip, reminding her of how long she had been working and of her questionable wisdom in choosing to do this in the hard sunlight of the open beach. Undeterred by her doubts, she kept up her steady motion, settling into a rhythm as she bore.

"Ha," she gasped lightly as the white tendrils of smoke poured faintly from the pile. She gulped down, spying fervently from above as her sight found what she had scarcely allowed herself to believe. Sitting proudly in its nest of ash was the smoldering spark of a coal.

Taming her excitement, she carefully set her stick down on the deep sand as she reached for a few shreds of coconut fiber. She held the knotted mass of tinder cautiously next to the ember as she slowly blew on it with the breath she had been holding in her nervousness.

The smoke billowed with renewed life as the heat of the coal found the delicate fuel she had nestled beside it. The flicker of flame igniting, she swiftly fed it more of the dry fibers. The fire grew voraciously, hungrily consuming the delectable driftwood as it rose. With excited squeals out of success and fear as the flames nearly licked her fingers, Kagome picked up the shrinking torch she had caught on fire and tossed it into the nearby pit she had dug earlier. Within the pyramid of logs she had crafted, it landed into more broken driftwood which it promptly began to devour.

"Yes!" she proclaimed gleefully at her success, finally allowing herself the indulgence of realizing her victory. Around the pit she skipped playfully as the blaze rose. "Finally, I did it! I did it, Miroku! I did it, Sango!" she sang into the brilliantly azure sky before adding in a derisive tone to her song, "I did it, Inuyasha, so you can bring me my dinner!"

The emptiness of the rolling thunder as waves crashed on the shore and the rustling of the breeze through the palm fronds answered her cries, acknowledging her achievement with their indifference. Her elated whoops slowly quieted down and her steps shortly came to a stop as she stared at her creation in her gradual silence.

"I did it, everyone. I did it."

OOOOOOOOOO

Under an ever-reaching canopy of palm treetops, the tropical vegetation of the jungle flourished in the dappled shadows. Varying from wide to narrow and large to small, their countless leaves and branches enveloped the forest floor with their lush green hues. The vivid blossoms of the exotic flowers splashed orange, purple and yellow with a sparing touch so that the eye never tired of their presence.

Pooled, rain water pouring from their slightly, cupped surfaces, several broad leaves parted in the maze of entangled flora. Stepping through the narrow, hidden pathway, the richly tanned figure of a young woman appeared. Stripped to her waist, she moved cautiously down the trail. With her bare feet making not a sound as she treaded over the root strewn way, she warily scanned the jungle around her. Slung over shoulder was a rough quiver woven from pliable strips of thin bark from the rare sapling that she had found. Protruding from the top of the long pocket at her back were the slender, shaved shafts of arrows, fletched with the white feathers from the gulls that foraged away at the distant beach.

Snuffling greedily beyond her sight, but not beyond her ears, the woman could hear the contented grunting of her quarry. She gripped the supple wood of her carved bow harder in anticipation as she quietly breached the last branches.

She was not disappointed as she spied the dark, bent silhouettes of boar eagerly devouring the overly ripened mangoes that had dropped from the lofty boughs of the tree above. The sticky juice coated their snouts and sharp tusks as they pried the rotting, orange flesh from the woody pits. Occupied with their own gluttony, the pigs took no notice of the preying human a few short paces away.

Kagome held her breath anxiously, every doubting thought crippling her confidence as her eyes washed over the dangerous points anchored on either side of each animal's mouth. Her brow furrowing, she pouted in her indecision. The endless cycle of the repeating day brought her fortune more often than misery. A few weeks ago as she ventured into the thicker tangle of the jungle she rarely explored, she had heard the pleasured snorts from the beasts as they gorged themselves. The savory flavor of pork lured her back against her better judgment with the sweet and worn-out taste of crab to aid it. Now she had returned at the same time of day to find the delectable meat exactly where it should be, foraging beneath bristled, brown fur and a volatile temper.

The young woman shifted slightly in her ready stance, the prickle of the nerves in her feet voicing their complaint as she remained nearly motionless. In her mind, the same stream of words that fueled her confidence trickled through, her mantra in the unforgiving wilderness she was abandoned in. A man had once told her it in a moment of battle. She could scarcely remember his name after the passing of so many suns since he washed away with the tide. His face, like most others were blurred in her memory, but she did remember the silver of his hair and the gold of his eyes, so much like another who she still anchored close to her heart.

'Nock your arrow and draw your bow,' she mouthed wordlessly, bolstering her resolve as she commanded herself. Slowly and smoothly, she reached for the tickle of feather and gently grasped an arrow from her quiver. She set the thin missile against the taut twine she had woven from the same elastic bark she used for her quiver. Then she drew it, the quiet murmur of the bending wood and tightening string catching no notice.

'See your target and only your target until there is nothing else,' Kagome thought next as her predatory stare singled out the largest pig, the one that would prove the most troublesome should she have chosen one of the smaller ones to fell. It continued to indulge its insatiable appetite, unmindful of the stalking hunter in the foliage across the small clearing. The tip of the held arrow settled on its ribs just behind the forelegs, cautiously avoiding the gut and the spoiling of the meat should it hit there.

'Imagine your arrow's path and its strike. Imagine your success,' the voice in her head declared, its rich baritone fading quickly to her feminine tone as it spoke. The conjured vision of the fragile missile leaving her fingers in its brief and violent journey into the boar's side filled her sepia eyes. She saw the pig fall, flailing fiercely in its final throes of life before stilling completely. She was ready.

'And in that moment release your fingers,' she finished voicelessly as the arrow flew from her hand, propelling through the humid air and into the unsuspecting animal, impaling it harshly through the lung. The young woman sighed raggedly in relief as her shot unerringly found its mark, unfortunately her fleeting smile was shorter lived than the still breathing and now enraged beast charging towards her.

"Shit," she muttered in her hoarse voice, rough from disuse. Spinning on her heel, she raced down the trail with her blind feet finding the unseen way with ease. Around the vegetation she dodged agilely, her hurried steps finding the ground after every leap and dive as the boar uncaringly forged through the bushes in its rush to gore its assailant.

Ahead, the low branches of a tree caught Kagome's eye and a hasty plan formed in her mind. It was reckless and unwise in concept, but then again she really wanted roasted pork. Tossing her bow into the foliage as she passed, she leapt gracefully into the air. She grasped desperately onto the thick limb with one hand, using the momentum of her sprint to swing her body up. Her shoulder ached from the wrenching strain and she twisted to the side as she rose above the branch. Frantically she grabbed the limb with her free hand, determinedly straddling atop it with her prone body.

Not losing a moment, the young woman rose to a kneel, retrieving a black shard of obsidian from its sheath in her woven belt. Eagerly she awaited for her rapidly closing prey, the rustling of leaves and breaking of branches heralding its way.

Then a dark, shadowy blur breached the final border of bushes and Kagome leapt with the wrapped handle of her knife anchored firmly between her teeth. She landed hard on the large beast that was many times her weight. Blue sparks of the barrier ignited from her impact as she knocked the pig from its narrow feet and onto the side where the thin, feather-tipped shaft of the arrow protruded. Further into the boar it drove, piercing the heart with its filed point. In surprise, desperate, high-pitched squeals rung in the air as it kicked out violently with its cloven hooves, striking the young woman that fell beside it. The glow of the barrier saved her from broken bones and a crushed skull, but not from the shallow gashes and bruising the dying animal had wrought.

Exhausted and injured, Kagome rose to her feet and limped to the dished head of the beast, avoiding the still dangerous tusks waving threateningly. Crouching warily behind its neck, she took the volcanic glass blade from her mouth and made a deep cut across its throat. Blood gushed from the wound, eventually quieting its cries and stilling its thrashing. Eyes glossy and vacant with death, it lay limply in a growing pool of red.

The newly fledged huntress weakly hobbled to the refuge of the tree trunk where she had made her dive, slumping down at its base as she breathed heavily, her lungs still trying to catch up with her body. Unseeing as the creep of fatigue overtook her, Kagome's sight remained on her fallen prey. A weak smile graced her features as sleep finally settled and she drifted away into the nothingness of her empty dreams.

OOOOOOOOOO

Floating listlessly on the tame currents, the dark and nearly water-logged wood of an expertly made raft bobbed weakly on the turquoise water. Surrounded by the smoothness of the ever-reaching sea and the distant, looming silhouette of the island, the vessel appeared like a black blemish on the pristine cove. Slender, smoothly hewn logs lay across the boat in regular rows, bound with lashings to thick lengths of tapering wood at each end. The sturdy support made from fallen tree trunks sunk slightly into the deep water it floated upon, but remained above the surface through the shallow waves. The well carved spades of the raft's oars hung securely on their hooks. Across the flat surface of its deck lay a neatly piled heap of fist-size, smooth stones.

Beige and black, a strange shape moved up from beneath the boat, its figure distorted by the continuous ripples that plagued the water's surface. With a deep, gasping breath and barely a splash as she gently broke the surface, the head of a woman with sepia eyes appeared. Grabbing the wooden handholds above her, she summoned her strength in the strong muscles of her arms and hoisted her nude body upon the deck of her watercraft. Rising from her belly to her knees after she climbed on, the woman slicked back her long bangs soaked with saltwater. Fine lines at the corners of her eyes and the scarce, silver hair in her waist-length locks were the only traitors hinting at her age. She swiftly rose to her feet with the sunlight glinting on her glistening, lean body.

The strap of a swollen satchel hung over her shoulder and between her full breasts. She reached for the tie of the bag that settled at her hip, loosening the bloated knot with a bone pick from her old, dependable belt that was securely strapped around her waist. The bag opened after a few deft pokes and pulls, revealing a treasure trove of shellfish inside. The woman crouched down and dumped the contents onto the deck, shaping it into a neat pile as they fell.

Finished, she leaned over to the mound of stones, carefully sorting through them and placing the ones of her liking into pouches on her belt. Then in her well accustomed ritual, she casually strolled around her small boat, touching every log, rope and oar with the light touch of her foot or hand. Satisfied that all would be well when she returned, her sight fell to the deep water. The woman teetered on the brim of the raft and then with practiced grace, she dove elegantly into the sea.

The cool, refreshing chill of the ocean tickled her warm skin and her long hair floated around her like a delicate halo. Taking a moment to find her bearings, she hung in the water like a marionette with her legs moving slowly in exaggerated kicks. She scanned the sandy seafloor below obscured in the haze of the sea. Slowly she sunk as she thought, the rocks in her belt weighting her down as she desired. When she decided to return for air, she would leave them behind, speeding her ascent to the sanctuary of the sky above.

With a sudden twist of her lithe body, she dove down to the rocky bottom, her sharp eyes slipping over the patches of rough stone and coral, searching for the rare shellfish that had escaped her keen attention in her previous descents. The gray oval of a lone abalone caught her sight and she swam towards it. Settled in front of it, the woman reached for another pocket in her belt, retrieving her favorite obsidian knife. She wedged the blade under the animal, prying it from its foundation with an exacting pressure. It broke free from its hold and she swiftly placed it in her bag.

She smiled happily at her find, turning away from the rocky shelf it had been nestled upon. As she twisted, her gaze fell to the dark teal abyss of the deepening ocean. Her vision lingered there and her pleasure faded. He was there, beyond the darkness. He said he would return and she said she would wait for him. He... He... Then she realized that it wasn't only his face now that failed her memory, but his name as well.

Unthinkingly as instantly dissolving tears escaped her burning sight, the woman with sepia eyes swam hard for the vast, empty ocean. She couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't wait for him. The muscles of her arms and legs complained bitterly as she strained to kick and paddle through the heavy currents. Her lungs begged for air, aching angrily in her chest as she gritted her teeth. Soon, water slipped into her nose and mouth as she gasped in the sea, her body unwilling to be denied air any longer even as she was surrounded only by the drowning liquid of the ocean.

'I will get there,' she thought desperately, her determination insurmountable as her lungs completely filled with water and her body slowed in obstinate resignation before the power of the sea. Drifting to a stop, she hung in the water motionless with the last glimmer of thought leaving her mind as she slipped away into unconsciousness. 'I will get there.'

OOOOOOOOOO

The gentle lap of waves brushed against her cheek with the salty taste of the ocean leaking into her open mouth. Sand dusting her eyelashes, the sepia eyes of the washed up woman blinked open wearily. Her mind still in a haze, she feebly lifted her head, spying the familiar line of palm trees up the steep bank. Groggy and weak, she crawled up the beach, fumbling with her exhausted limbs as she went. Then she collapsed onto her face, the powdery grains sticking to her cheeks where fresh streams of tears slipped. Rough sobs escaped her lips as she pounded her fist futilely into the soft sand.

There she lay wracked in her grief and solitude until her tears dried up and her gruff voice finally quelled. The calming rush of the breaking waves and the comforting rustling of the palm fronds filled her ears, soothing her aching heart. Sniffling and trembling, she rose to her knees with sand caked to her face. She turned over onto her butt, her bloodshot gaze falling to amber sea as the red, setting sun merged with the flat horizon. Then she smiled softly. Resting neatly on the shore, whole and unscathed, sat her raft with the waiting pile of shellfish ready to fill her grumbling belly. 'I could wait a little longer, I suppose.'

OOOOOOOOOO

'Left, right, right, left,' an older woman with sepia eyes thought absently as she stood listlessly on a large stone overlooking a shallow stretch of shore. Held in a ready hand, the slender shaft of a spear rested against her lean shoulder. Its carved, volcanic glass tip followed the nimble turns of a pewter fish without fail as it swam before her. 'Right, left, left.'

She admired the little, silvery animal that shared its existence with her. At first it was food. Hidden away in the now ancient memories of when she first began her life on the empty beach, it was the first fish she had caught. The first meat she had eaten. Then the next morning, it returned to its place along the shore unfazed by its death wrought the day before. Again she slew it and again it reappeared. Out of curiosity, she kept the remains she usually discarded to see if it would return. The shore remained empty with them in her company and it was from this little fish that she realized the recycling of the world. Her shelter, her raft, her implements and her food, all had to be touched everyday or else the next day they would return to the sources from which they came. It was an unusual day when she forgot to touch the roof of her house and she awoke the following morning to the green of the peeking treetops.

The woman shifted slightly in her casual stance as the wind caught her hair, blending the ebony locks with the silver streaks above her ears. Her body seemed timeless next to the fine creases and lines that framed her eyes and brow. To live well in the wilds of the island, her sinewy, chiseled figure could not afford the luxury of age.

'Right, left, left, left, right,' she anticipated unerringly as she and her spear continued to follow the small animal as it undulated and swam. A time came when she no longer cared to hunt it. There were crabs and other fish to be had. It was her emergency meal should she fail to gather enough to eat, at least that's what she convinced herself it was.

Then one day, she gave it a name. It wasn't witty or fitting, but it was unexpected. Why would she name a creature she planned on eating? Yet, it became Pisces-kun anyway. For many years, she visited it for a few hours and rattled on about her old life to stave off the loneliness her new one had become. The solitude had been so heavy in the beginning, weighting her spirit, but Pisces-kun was always there, swimming in its shallows.

The time passed and slowly her voice dried up with no reason to speak. She built a raft and explored the forest as she resigned herself to the island and forgot the real world beyond the illusion. She forgot about the scroll. She forgot about the Shikon no Tama. She forgot about her friends, all but the one who twisted happily in the water before her. Nothing else mattered.

'Left, right, left...left?' she thought quizzically as the tiny fish darted away unexpectedly, leaving her alone on her rock. Perplexed, her sight traveled up and into the amber orbs of a tall, silver-haired demon standing a pace away in knee-deep water.


	37. A Name

Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Name

With delicate webs of white foam astride them, the placid, aquamarine waves rose eagerly, bathing the rock strewn shore in the rush of its caress and the soft whisper of its froth. After reaching as far as their vanishing momentum would allow them, they withdrew, pulled back with equal fervor by the forever enduring embrace of the ocean. Their return was not without protest, as the reluctant currents evenly combed the smooth layer of sand, removing any imperfections with its steady drag. Around the monuments of volcanic rock it labored in its resistance, keenly finding the firm stance of the tai youkai as it departed. Beneath his feet it burrowed, teasing away the foundation of sand he stood upon. His footing though, like the rest of him did not waver as he watched the older woman with the poised spear on the rock before him.

Strangers in appearance, they remained in the rumbling silence of the beach, their unblinking eyes steadily fixed on the other. The woman's spear which had been leveled on the pewter fish undulating just beneath the waves had since risen, its neat point set unswervingly in the direction of the stripped demon's chest. He though was not the only one exposed as she towered over him on her rock. Darkly tanned with silver-streaked, raven hair, she was clothed in little more than a woven belt tied securely at her waist and a satchel loitering at the curve of her hip, its long strap slung securely over her opposing shoulder. The marring lines of scars carved the golden skin of her toned body, speaking of her innumerable lessons in the wilds of the island as did the lean, trained muscles of her distinctly womanly figure.

The youkai lord's sight did not linger on the old wounds that clothed her nudity, but drifted resolutely to her face and the mystery that lingered there. Beneath the lines of age and the fierceness of her glare was a familiarity he could not quite place. Hidden away in her sepia eyes it laid, lost to the agonizing years of solitude and survival. Then he spied it or her to be exact. The idealistic, young miko he had left on the shore but a few hours ago. In his realization, Sesshoumaru's mouth set into a frown. Oto-hime had been right and thirty-five years had come to pass while he had been away underneath the sea. Time was not favorable to creatures as brief in life as humans. Demons and gods feel the flow differently. They float on the surface of it like flotsam, but those of the mortal coil sink and are slowly dissolved by the decay of its encompassing depths.

The cold logic of his mind strayed from the tug of sympathy that the plight of her humanly nature invited. He was not responsible for her predicament. He had not snared her in the scroll with his blind inquisitiveness. He had not named her role to remain behind on the shore as he delved into the ocean. He had not loitered in the company of the seductress any longer than what was necessary. And he was not responsible for the frailty of her people and the cruel price time tolled for their existence. The tai youkai's eyes hardened with his resolve as his vision focused on her unwavering, stern expression.

"Miko?" he called out firmly, expecting her usual brand of awkward respect and receiving the unexpected launching of a spear in its place. Taking a swift step back, he twisted away from the projectile and grabbed the shaft of it easily. The sanded wood of its smooth length hummed as it vibrated in his firm grip and the wicked, obsidian tip trembled in the air, its path having nearly grazed him. With a thin brow arched in surprise at the force behind the throw, the demon entertained a slight smirk at the unerring aim of its caster. If he had not been Sesshoumaru, it would have surely struck the heart, a blow few would rise from and not before this elder miko finished her intent with the volcanic glass knife sheathed at her waist.

After lifting the deadly point to his face to inspect its expert workmanship, the demon glanced up from his increasing admiration to find the rock before him strangely vacant. Sprinting up the sandy slope of the outlying beach, the nude woman disappeared into the sprawling jungle of palm trees and exotic vegetation, leaving him alone in the lapping caress of the waves. Resting the long weapon casually against his shoulder, the curious youkai lord unhurriedly followed, matching her frantic pace with an easy, loping gait.

In a few short moments, he breached the border of trees and foliage to find the deepening labyrinth of the tropical forest beyond. Quietly, he tuned his sensitive ears for her sound, listening for the plodding steps and heavy breaths that marked her in his mind. He found none as he listened; only the subtle thumps of agile footsteps and soft sighs of light breaths filled the air. 'Thirty-five years,' he thought silently as he wove through the dense ground cover towards the muted noises, slashing vines and branches with the easy swipe of his clawed hand.

The dark jungle bled on as he cleared his way through its entangled growth. The tai youkai quickened his pace as the fleeing miko's knowledge of its design put more distance between them. Towering trees fell before his intelligent strikes, opening up the canopy above and allowing the brilliant rays of the midday sun to find the seldom illuminated world below. His amber eyes rising to the sapphire of the heavens, Sesshoumaru briefly contemplated taking to the sky and avoiding the endless snarl of plants that plagued his way and the green pulp of their flesh that ground under his sharpened nails. As much as the idea appealed to his inherent fastidiousness, he quickly dismissed it from his mind. He wanted to see what had shaped the miko for so many years; he wanted to experience it, to be immersed in it, to understand it.

The darkness finally broke as the demon lord waded through the last of the trees, spying his quarry clambering up the sand coated hillside. Broken with rocky outcrops and crags, the mountain rose several paces beyond the woman's desperate steps as she scrambled for the peak. Her mad ascent stopped at the crest, her sweat glistening body dusted in places by white, powdery grains of sand. He sprang up the face of the hill in a breath, closing the distance as he landed lightly a few steps behind her.

"Miko?" he called out again with a softer voice as he stared up at her bare back as she gazed down the cliff face at her feet, her long hair caught in the updrafts of the light, sea breeze. "You have no other path. Come here."

Turning her head slightly, her intense, sepia eyes left the remote, sandy shore and the vague shapes of distant trees that stained it at the foot of the cliff. Their dark brown depths roamed to the cool, golden sight of the demon at her back. Then she was gone, plummeting over the edge.

Sesshoumaru remained motionless for a moment, his rare, wide-eyed stare not quite believing the barren ground before him was empty. His bare feet crossed the remaining rough earth to the rim of the cliff and he impassively peered over the edge, expecting to find the broken body of the miko at its base. Instead it was a point of blue sparks that burst from the sand below. As the light waned, the mildly injured figure of the miko limped from her crater, hurriedly seeking the nearest patch of coconut trees.

"Hn," the tai youkai snorted in disbelief and with a renewed smirk of respect, "The barrier as your cushion, miko? Well done." Then the impressed demon too sprang off of the cliff, summoning his youki as he fell. The winds of aura swelled at his feet, slowing his descent.

He landed lightly on the sandy bed beside the miko's impact, his eyes falling to the soft, dragging trail her lame gait left. The sound of her labored breathing and rapid heartbeat caught in his ears as he entered the tall columns of palm trees. He wove through them noiselessly as he tracked the woman. The world remained silent to him except for her loudening beat and breath, only to be broken by the sudden, tightening creak of wood.

Dodging gracefully behind a thick trunk as the sparkling, pink glow of a purification arrow whizzed by his head, Sesshoumaru glanced back warily as the glittering projectile struck with a twang into a tree at his back. He could not help but smile again at the prickle of the fine hair on his forearm, singed ever faintly from the power the arrow had exuded as it passed. Stepping out from the safety behind the tree, the demon faced the determined miko standing resolutely with another arrow nocked in her elegantly carved bow. Blood trickled from her knee and lip with the darkening of a bruise hinting at her thigh. Neither her injuries nor her pain impeded her firm stance or hard glare as she leveled the tip of her arrow on the nearly, naked youkai before her.

"Miko?" Sesshoumaru called again, benignly tossing the spear he had been carrying onto the sand at her bare feet. "I do not mean to harm you. Do you not remember this Sesshoumaru? Do you not remember the scroll?"

The quiet murmur of tightening string as she drew the bow answered his line of questions. The demon lord frowned in his predicament and at the courses of action he could and should take. Her spiritual power had swelled greatly in his absence and her aim left no room for error. Without armor, he did not care to test her skill or strength. While he doubted that she could truly purify him, it was the humiliation of being burned by a mere priestess' arrow that presently invited the scowl on his face. A cloud of poison should distract her and like with Oto-hime, the barrier should leave her unscathed. Then he could disarm and restrain her until she came to her senses, if she could at this point. She did not remember him or the scroll. After so many years alone, as a human she may not even remember who she was.

"Miko?" he repeated, taking a step.

Another arrow flew from her hand as he moved towards her and he neatly shifted away as its hot glow passed. As quickly as that one left, a fresh arrow swiftly found its place nocked in her bow. Drawn before his sight returned to her, the projectile's cruel point centered on his chest, following him doggedly as he straightened his stance.

"Miko?" he asked gently again taking another step. "You are safe. I have returned as I vowed. Miko? Listen to me, miko."

The string tightened as she ignored his words and growled under her breath at his steady approach.

"Miko? Miko?" he spoke over and over, the idea of having to restrain her by force cementing itself more in his mind with every step. Then a word that he had scarcely remembered in their traveling emerged from his memory and whispered its name in his thoughts. "Kagome?"

He saw her waver at the name, the golden complexion of her face paling at its sound.

"Kagome, please put down the bow," the tai youkai commanded gently as he moved again in her direction, a placid expression hiding his discomfort at the shortening distance between her arrow and his person. "You are safe. There is no need to fight, Kagome."

Her body trembling at her name and the memory it conjured, her aim lowered slightly as her lips moved, trying to speak with a voice that had faded many years ago.

"I--", she murmured hoarsely, her hard, sepia eyes softening as she looked at the demon imploringly. "Iii--"

"I am listening, Kagome."

"Iii--Ii-nu--" Kagome managed gruffly, struggling with the sounds she remembered, but had forgotten how to say. "I-nuu--"

He heard the word behind the rough syllables, the name she desperately wanted to hear. The only name she clung to in the isolation of this world. It was the one name that she depended on to always save her even as she learned how to save herself. It was the name of the one that she loved.

"Ii-nuu--"

"Inuyasha," he finished soothingly, taking a final step towards her, the sharp tip of her arrowhead pricking against the smooth skin and hard muscle of his toned stomach.

Tears streaked down Kagome's face as he finished, her mind scarcely believing the word that escaped his lips. Then her reddening eyes poured over the demon as if she was looking at the man before her for the first time, trying to remember details from her dull and washed out memory. He had silver hair and golden eyes, like him. There was more, but it was so buried, so lost in her ancient memories. Shaking her head in frustration, she stared back pleadingly into his softened eyes.

"I-nu-ya-sha?"

They stood a long moment in the thundering silence of the distant waves and the rushing quiet of the ocean breeze rustling through the coconut trees. With her bow still drawn, the miko's sight never left the troubled gaze of the demon that her ready arrow was pressed against. Then his suddenly hardened expression relaxed and the turmoil of his mind settled.

"Yes."

The bow dropped with a soft thud onto the sand as Kagome flew at the stiffening tai youkai and wrapped her wiry arms around his waist, her moistened cheeks buried into his solar plexus as she hugged him tightly.

"Inu-ya-sha. Inu-yasha, Inuyasha," she repeated over and over between broken sobs of relief. She didn't know for sure, but he had silver hair and golden eyes. He knew the name and somehow with that, it was enough. He was him. Reluctantly at first and never quite comfortable, a clawed hand found her dark hair and stroked her gently as she cried out her weariness and anguish.

"Yes, I am Inuyasha. I have come and now you are safe, Kagome. You are safe."


	38. Respect and Honor

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Respect and Honor

With a final shuddering sigh, Kagome's trembling body eased as the last of her ebbing sobs subsided into gentle breaths. Her tousled mop of long, silver-streaked hair hung around her face as she continued to press her wet cheek against the tai youkai in her tight embrace. Moistened from her tears and the steam of her breaths, the feel of his porcelain skin and the fine, combed hairs of his chest soothed her weariness. Still, it was not the flesh of his body that assured the aging woman the most that she was no longer alone, but the steady beat of his heart. It was the unerring sound of another person and with each thump it freed her little by little of her empty solitude.

"Kagome?" Sesshoumaru called gently, looking down at the crown of dark hair he still awkwardly stroked in her comfort. The name felt foreign on his tongue, but not nearly as strange as his half brother's name had sounded to his ears. The slight pang of regret formed behind the demon's temples as he thought on his decision to deceive the elder miko into believing he was the hanyou. He had had little choice if he still intended her to open the box. Restraining the frightened priestess in her terror would not inspire the trust that he desired, yet it was solely that aggressive act that had remained between him and her dangerous hail of purifying arrows.

"Mm," Kagome murmured in reply as her grip at his waist tightened at her name, unwilling to surrender to the yet to be spoken request that she knew would soon follow.

"You must release me," he kindly demanded as she had anticipated, his tone remaining soft as his telling hand found her narrow shoulder.

"N-no," she disagreed hoarsely as a lost word of her slowly returning memory surfaced in her discontent. Stubbornly, she rubbed her face harder into the well built muscle of his chest and fresh tears streaked down her cheeks as she thought on the loss of his reassuring sound and warmth.

An elegant pair of claw-tipped fingers and thumb found the older woman's chin, raising it gently despite its reluctance. Soon her glossy, reddened eyes met his softened, golden gaze. The youkai lord's hand slipped to the tangled locks of hair that hid her face, sweeping them aside lightly with his nails. The salty streams of wetness were next as he soothingly wiped her tears with the soft pads of his fingers. Eventually, his touch strayed away from its drying intent to the many fine grains of sand that clung lightly to the delicate hairs of her face, brushing them away as well. He smiled mildly in satisfaction as his ministrations slowly revealed the beautiful face before him that was accentuated with age rather than destroyed by it.

"Kagome," he spoke again when he finished, stroking her cheek softly with the back of his fingers. "You must release me and trust that I will not leave you. You are no longer alone. I will be here." Her sepia eyes lingered on his placid expression, searching for a lie, but finding only his inexpressive sincerity. He would not leave her. She could trust him.

Gulping down at the impending sobs that lurked achingly in her throat, Kagome loosened her sinewy arms from around the tai youkai's long torso. Slowly and unsteadily, she hesitantly stepped back away from him. Swiftly the anxiety etching her tanned face faded as she looked him over and a gentle smile deepened the lines fanning from her eyes.

With a brow knitted, Sesshoumaru's own sight fell to his body and the perfect imprint of speckled sand her nearly coated figure had left on his person. From perplexed to surprised, he nearly stepped back as the elder miko closed the distance with her arms stretched out before her. Stiffening in his reaction, the demon lord's mind unhappily entertained the likely possibility of another lingering hug. To his momentary pleasure though, her calloused hands stopped short, finding the smooth skin of his muscular chest with their caring touch. Sweeping gently, Kagome freed the clinging grains from his dusted body, working her way down his chiseled abs as she went. Unsure of what to make of all her recent touching, the tai youkai quickly found the line as her fingers strayed to the few grains caught on the white silk of his fundoushi.

"That is enough, Kagome," he insisted sharply, grasping her wrist firmly as her hand ghosted over the fabric and the soft mound beneath it. She stared up at him in bewilderment as he cautiously released his grip, his eyes warily following her recently accosting hands.

"No?"

"No," he answered resolutely as he leaned forward to brush the few remaining particles away. "I will do the rest myself. Do not concern yourself."

She shrugged in acquiescence and patiently waited for him to finish what she had started. Cleansed as well as he could expect in a world of sand and the gentle breezes it often rode, the demon straightened up and his sight settled on the occupied priestess before him. Watching as the youkai lord meticulously groomed himself had reminded her of her own disheveled appearance. Over her shapely figure, her hands roamed across powdered skin, revealing the golden tone beneath as she brushed the sand free. As she finished, only the subtle glittering of a few anchored grains remained behind on the toned lines of her muscles and the soft curves of her breasts and backside. Satisfied with the cleanliness of her skin, Kagome's dull nails found the snarled locks of her hair, smoothing the tangled knots as she gently raked her fingers through them.

Sesshoumaru looked on in quiet appreciation, uninterested in distracting the lithe elder miko from her preoccupation with her body. Catching his eye with curiosity, her peaceful expression glowed faintly in contentment as she busily combed her long, ebony hair. It was this serenity that hinted at her true power which seemed greater than the strength of her muscles or the aim of her arrow. During the cruel years that traded her tender youth for hardened scars, she had somehow retained her innocence through it all. It was a radiating light that refused to be darkened by time or loneliness. Then the sweet laughter of his adopted daughter echoed in his mind, another who had experienced so much pain, but whose kind spirit endured. Wrapped in torn fuchsia silk and hanging securely from his fundoushi at his hip, the small, pearlescent box he received from the Oto-hime felt heavier.

"Inuyasha?" Kagome asked inquisitively at his aloof stare in her direction, disrupting the tai youkai from his meandering thoughts.

"Where are my clothes?" he smoothly responded, diverting his tarrying contemplations with a concern that had been hovering in the back of his mind since before he returned. "And my swords?"

"C-lo-thes and s-words?" she murmured quietly, tapping her lips lightly with her finger as she remembered the words from her fractured memory. Then she smiled broadly and reached forward eagerly, grabbing his hand tightly in her enthusiasm. "Come."

After pausing briefly to retrieve her dropped bow, Kagome was soon swiftly striding across the soft, deep sand with the uncertain demon securely in her grip. The earlier fall from the cliff scarcely hindering her determined steps; they wove easily through an endless maze of tall, coconut trees. The flat ground rose into an easy sloping hill as they traveled through the sparse forest. Gaining the advantage of height, the distant terrain soon grew in familiarity as Sesshoumaru recognized the far-off, smooth line of coast that the stranded sea turtle had washed up upon.

Through a final copse of gently waving palm trees, a small, lone hut was revealed. Its sturdy frame was carved from thick, smoothly hewn logs and its walls and roof were thatched from palm fronds. Buffeted against a sheer wall of dark, volcanic rock, the delicate structure was safely out of the prying winds of the island that would slowly erode it away with their insistent breath. Blackened with use, a fire pit was dug out near the entrance of the dwelling. In the powdery ash and crumbled shards of charred wood at its center lay a few glowing coals waiting to be fed.

Releasing her guest in her sudden rush, Kagome hurriedly approached the dying fire. Her hands swiftly found the broken pieces of driftwood that were collected into a pile at the rim of the hearth and she knelt down to expertly arrange a few into the pit to stoke the vanishing flame. Placed to her liking, she rose and loped to a stack of larger split logs of near the hut.

Back and forth she scuttled, carrying the heavy wedges of firewood to her now eagerly growing fire. The youkai lord casually strolled around the camp, absently observing the elder miko as he sated his curiosity about her lonely life on the island. Strange markings etched into the wall of rock caught his eye, drawing him to lines of writing that marred the formerly smooth plane of its stone surface.

"Firing one hundred arrows a day is nothing compared to firing one arrow well a day," he read aloud, easily recognizing the words as the same ones he had taught to the miko when they stood before the devouring flames and appetite of the Centipede. "Envision nocking your arrow and envision drawing your bow. See your target and only your target. Do so until there is nothing else. Imagine your arrow's path and its strike. Imagine your success. And in that moment release your fingers."

His brow furrowed as he followed the wall of rock to a lone tree several paces away. The bark of its broad trunk was engraved with the shape of a circle. At its center was a deep, elliptical gash, the perfect imprint of the elder miko's arrowhead.

'A well shot arrow a day as I had told her,' he thought inwardly as he fingered the frayed wood of the strike. Again, he felt the persistent weight of the gifted box grow heavier.

"Inuyasha?" a gruff, feminine voice called out to him at his back and the demon turned away from the tree. With a pleased smile gracing her features as she noted his interest in her practicing target, Kagome beckoned him with a quick wave of her hand "Come."

"Hn," he snorted and he followed her toward the thin shelter of her quaint hut. As he unhurriedly arrived, she crawled inside the narrow opening of her doorway. The sound of rustling and grunts marked her disappearance into the near dark of her dwelling as she fumbled about within. Then her rounded rear end reappeared as she hauled out a heavy box fashioned from reeds.

Lifting the fitted lid, she removed the soft, crumpled padding of grass, exposing a set of packages covered with broad, pliable leaves. Taking her obsidian knife from her belt, she carefully cut the handmade twine that held the wrapping together. With a gentle sweep of her hand, she cleared the leaves away and revealed the delicate silk within. Pure white save for the smooth gradient of crimson at the corner and the emblem of sakura blossoms in between, the haori coat he had left in her care appeared flawless despite the usual event of decay that time often wrought.

Carefully, she set it aside as she removed more packages, freeing them of their bindings as she went. Each one was in perfect condition, free of soil and rot. His hakama pants, his hapi undercoat, his boots and all unfazed by the corroding passing of thirty-five years. The last package she left in the box, unwilling to drag it from its nest unnecessarily. After a quick cut of her blade, the elder miko removed its wrapping. Peeking out in shimmering silver and black, the hard leather and metal spikes of his armor revealed itself as she plucked the leaves from its surface.

"It is oiled?" the tai youkai inquired curiously as he knelt down beside her, his clawed fingers gently stroking the familiar grain of the black leather and the glint of the shining steel.

Catching his meaning as he rubbed his hand over the armor in a circular motion, Kagome quickly rose to her feet and re-entered her hut. She returned a few moments later, dragging out two additional large, reed boxes. Set precariously upon them rested a corked coconut and a square of soft boar hide. She picked up the hollowed out fruit when she finished, removing the pithy stopper. She carefully handed it to the demon along with the hide. Through the narrow opening, he peered at the thick ointment within.

"Rendered boar fat?" he remarked thoughtfully as he examined the pelt and its recognizable, bristled, brown fur. With a slight nod, the impressed youkai lord returned the coconut and the hide.

Setting them aside after the she re-corked the fruit, the older woman lifted the top from her next case, exposing the downy pile of cream colored fur. Sesshoumaru petted it softly, its fate the least of his concern. His pelt would retain its power for many years after its removal and from the warmth it still exuded, his confidence was well rewarded. Delighting in her rare indulgence, Kagome's fingers found the soft tufts of fur as well.

"My swords?" the demon guessed as he gestured towards the only remaining reed box left unopened. A pout forming on her lips as her hands regrettably left the pleasure his pelt inspired, she removed the lid of the last box. Sleeved in cured, boar leather, two long objects laid within the case. He picked one up, recognizing the heaviness of Tokijin. He held it by the hilt, allowing gravity to slip off the soft wrapping. His mildly shocked expression reflected well on the shining blade unmarred by the expected spots of rust and the corrosion salt wrought on the steel of swords. Next he took up Tenseiga, finding it in as perfect condition as his other weapon.

"Oil," Kagome spoke up with pride at his puzzlement and she tapped the coconut filled with fat as a new slew of forgotten words came to her mind. "Heat fat and clean."

"Hn," he snorted as he looked over the thin blade of his inheritance, the fang of his father. The weight of the tiny box at his hip grew even heavier in his mind, reminding him of the choice that had yet to be made. He had thought to give it to the miko before he arrived, after all her bad twist of fate had been wrought by the evil of a god and foul luck. It was not his fault that she had endured so much in her lonely stay on the empty island.

Pity and sympathy held an equal lack of sway in his mind. They were not worthy reasons to give such a precious gift and he loathed the idea of it. Pitying her would mean ignoring the strength and resilience she retained through the cruel years, an insult he would not exact on someone who so honored him, human or not.

'Would you have me go so far as to reward those who respect and honor me with punishment instead,' the gentle, unbidden voice of his great-grandsire floated through the demon's mind as he debated, reminding him of whose clan he belonged. He looked up at the glowing face of the elder miko as she prattled on with the few words she remembered, demonstrating happily on his armor the technique she used to preserve it. 'Reward those who respect and honor us, Shiro-sama? Is that the aim of all who are born into your clan?'

Setting Tenseiga down in the case, he loosened the small, pearlescent box from its silken cover and cradled it gently in his palm. 'Her blind trust, her devotion to the lessons in battle that I taught her and her unfaltering care for all of my possessions. Thirty-five years of loyalty. She is worthy of a gift, but is this the reward that she deserves for her enduring honor and respect? Will it be cherished if I do give it or will it be squandered like the many gifts you have given?' He sighed deeply in resignation. 'Or is it truly my choice to make? To hold pride above shame and to reward those who respect and honor me leaves me with only one path. One that you would no doubt choose yourself.'

He sighed again as he unlatched the delicate lock with his thumb. The tiny box sat harmlessly on his palm, its unassuming simplicity belying what lay within. Then without further hesitation, he lifted the lid.


	39. Sacrifice

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Sacrifice

Cradled elegantly in the claws of the tai youkai, the seemingly innocuous box unlatched harmlessly. On a delicate hinge, its lid flipped up with easy pressure and revealed an unexpected emptiness within. Devoid of any repercussions, the demon furrowed his brow at the lack of contents before his sight raised to the elder miko before him. Greasy, boar pelt still in hand, she had been drawn from her enthusiastic demonstration on oiling his armor to the curious box he held reverently before him. Neither the lines of her face nor the silver of her hair faded as he watched her scoot closer to get a better look at the polished object.

"Hn," he snorted irritably at her unaltered appearance while he thought on the instructions Oto-hime had given him when he left her palace. Finding doubt in the seductress' words before his own flawless memory, she had told him what would happen if he opened the box. Thirty-five of his years would be given to the miko to return the time she had spent on the beach. Yet as his scrutinizing sight roamed over the inquisitive, older woman, all had remained the same. Had the fallen maiden fooled him? He scowled at the idea. It seemed unlikely for she would gain nothing from this sort of pointless trickery. As spiteful as she was toward her cruel husband, such malice was not becoming of a goddess who had benevolently released him long before she was expected to.

"Smoke," Kagome blurted out anxiously with a newly remembered word before hurriedly sliding away on her knees. His eyes followed her troubled look centered on the formerly uneventful box. Cool to his skin like a heavy mist, thick wisps of purple smoke spilt over the edges of the container. The weighted vapor sank in the air, ignoring the lingering pull of the gentle, sea breeze buffeted softly by the nearby rock wall. The strange haze wafted down to his exposed thighs as the youkai lord knelt, glowing eerily when it found his skin. His flesh tingled where the vaporous tendrils icily touched, cultivating a broad field of goose bumps that blanketed the demon's body in its deep chill. Soon the box was empty as the last of its smoke floated down and dissipated against him, leaving an unnatural, violet radiance on his flesh as it vanished. Afterwards even that light faded to the relative darkness of his pale skin. Mildly perplexed, he frowned as he rubbed his legs lightly with the heel of his occupied hand.

Concern widening his eyes, a sudden, disturbing tightness in his chest hitched Sesshoumaru's breath and he dropped the delicate box to uneasily feel for his heart. Without the need to press his hand firmly, he felt the rapid thump of the straining muscle resonating hard behind his sternum. While his touch lingered, he felt the pace of the beat increase, filling his ears with the troubling sound of its growing exertion. Then before he could react, a searing and unfathomable pain erupted from his chest, wrenching his body in its intensity as it radiated through it.

"Inuyasha!" Kagome called out worriedly as the demon fell onto his back, his clenched muscles contracting violently in reaction. Snarls and growling curses escaped his gnashing teeth as his sharp claws left the fresh gashes he had ground into his palms to find his chest, ripping away at his flesh seeking desperately to relieve the excruciating burn tearing him apart inside. Rivulets of blood poured from the deep rakes of his nails and their red streams leaked down his glistening skin freshly soaked in beads of sweat. "Inuyasha!!"

The tai youkai growled viciously at the elder miko as she ventured closer in her worry, his eyes lit in vivid crimson and the once smooth stripes along his cheekbones jagged. In a low drone, his swiftly pulsating heart hummed in its ever increasing speed and his lungs seized as the already intolerable pain further spiked and swarmed his vision with white spots through the red. His claws left his ragged and torn chest to grasp futilely at his aching throat, desperately waiting for the breath that would not come.

Then his back arched hard as every stressed muscle of his body tightened rigidly and his lungs filled with a strange air that he had not breathed. Finally in a long, shuddering sigh, the youkai lord exhaled in a groan the purple smoke from the box that had penetrated his body earlier. The last, insidious wisp left his bloody fangs and he collapsed limply on the ground.

"Inuyasha!!" Kagome cried hoarsely as she scrambled hastily to his starkly motionless side, her hands fumbling over his slick flesh while she searched his distressing stillness for signs of life. Then the frigid coolness of the purple vapor found her, invading her mouth and nose as she tried to wave it away in her terror. Her frantic flailing left her without avail and she unavoidably swallowed down the relentless smoke. Its iciness coursed through her and her tanned skin soon glowed in a ghostly, violet hue. Subtle at first, a dull ache slowly built throughout her body. The older woman hunched over in her growing pain, her forehead meeting the soft side of the quiet demon. As tears welled in her eyes, she felt her flesh tighten and the long, dark hair that hung over her face shorten. Soon the strange radiance she exuded faded into paler skin and Kagome slumped over in her exhaustion. Blinking slowly as the lure of sleep overcame her, one vestige of thought remained as she reached weakly for the youkai beside her. One name lingered before the dark nothingness.

"Inuyasha."

OOOOOOOOOO

The dappled light filtering through the waving palm fronds found the peaceful school girl, stirring her from her contented rest. Despite the bright insistence of the sun, she remained steadfast in her reluctance to wake. With satisfying evidence to promote her argument, she nestled herself further against the soft, comfortable warmth at her back and happily rubbed her cheek against the thick muscle of her arm that lay beneath her head. That is until she realized that both of her arms were tucked closely against her chest.

She rose with a start, the last remnants of sleep fleeing her blurry sight as she turned to see who exactly she had found so comfy. A surprising wave of relief flowed through her when she recognized the prone figure of the tai youkai and all of which quickly flashed to a hot blush of embarrassment as she acknowledged how little he was wearing in his revealing, silk fundoushi. Her own stark nudity slipped her mind not a moment later and her cheeks darkened vibrantly while she awkwardly tried to cover herself up with her hopelessly inadequate hands.

"We didn't do it, did we?" she murmured softly the first possibility that darted through her mind for their joint nudity and the even more worrisome sleeping arrangements she awoke to. "I mean, I'd feel different if we did it, wouldn't I? Something would be different and I don't feel different. Everything feels the same. And why would he want to do it with me anyway? It doesn't make any sense. I'm jumping to conclusions, obvious conclusions, but unfounded ones all the same. And I'm rambling. I need to stop. I can't stop. This isn't good."

Biting her lower lip hard to keep her anxious tongue silent, Kagome unsteadily found her footing as she clumsily stood up without removing her shielding hands. Her eyes focusing solely on the apparently sleeping demon, she stepped back nervously and nearly tripped over the large, reed box at her heels.

"A vox?" she mumbled unintelligibly through her bitten lip as she stared at the case in bewilderment. She recognized its neatly packed contents, the white silks of the unawakened youkai lord's robes. Then her baffled gaze drifted to the remaining two cases filled with his glinting swords and his plush pelt. The last she could remember, she had been holding his belongings when he left for his journey to the sea palace. How did they end up in boxes? Why hadn't he put his clothes back on if he had returned? And just as importantly, where were her clothes? Why was she dressed only in a strange belt?

Shaking her head softly in her confusion, the school girl's sight rose higher yet and her formerly sealed mouth dropped open when she spied the quaint hut thatched with palm fronds and the smoldering fire pit. Where were they and why couldn't she remember how they got there?

Her feet finding the sudden need to explore, Kagome stepped lightly around the old, strange camp. Somewhat intrigued by the stacks of firewood and the hollowed gourds of fresh water, it was the carved, volcanic rock wall nearby that effectively caught her attention with its strikingly familiar, inscribed words. With her delicate fingers ghosting over the jagged edges of the letters, she silently mouthed the scrawled words. She had no doubt as she finished. Etched sharply into the stone was the lesson Sesshoumaru had imparted to her in their battle against The Centipede. What was it doing here? Who wrote it?

Anxiously, the school girl glanced back at the motionless tai youkai. He might know what happened and even if he didn't, he would know how to find out. Pausing to fetch his folded, hapi undercoat, she wrapped her indecency in the cool fabric. Careful not to wrinkle it or let its white length touch the ruining dirt of the ground, she apprehensively approached the demon lord.

"Sesshoumaru-sama," she whispered quietly, nervousness wavering her hushed voice even while she accepted that there was probably no good way to rouse the often intimidating demon. "Wake up Sesshoumaru-sama."

He remained deathly still despite her persistent calls. Slowly she raised her voice, gaining nerve in her loudening attempts as she drew near. Licking her dry lips in her restless unease, Kagome stooped down to gently tap his broad shoulder and her face paled in shock when her searching eyes met his shadowed chest, hidden from view by what remained of his amputated arm as he lay on his side. Caked black with dried blood, she could see the dark lines of his nails drawn chaotically across his upper body, gathered together ominously over his heart.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?!" she cried fearfully and she quickly bent over to push his limp body onto his back. Being heavier than he looked, the school girl grunted while she mustered her meager strength to flip the unmoving youkai lord over. Falling back, he rocked a moment in his lifelessness before stilling again. A startled gasp escaped her lips and she covered her mouth with her quaking hand at his pallid sight. Unbidden and equally inescapable, the seemingly impossible notion of his death blared its question in the forefront of her mind.

Falling to her knees in her desperation, Kagome felt frantically at his torn and clawed body. The coolness of his ashen skin further stole her hope while her questing fingers slipped along the deep grooves brimming with a hardened crust of blood. The worst of the horribly mangled flesh marked the center of his chest and she laid her head gently against the sticky wound. Holding her breath in her aching throat, she quietly listened for the telling beat marking his life. In her ears though, only the thundering of her own rapid pulse could be heard. Salty tears slipped down her cheeks and she stifled an impending sob behind her trembling lips. He couldn't be dead. Someone like him wasn't allowed to be. He'd frighten the death gods away just for the mere indignity of it. He couldn't be gone. He just couldn't be.

Then her red, glossy eyes widened at a faint sound resonating dully beneath her ear, reviving her failing hope amid her mounting despair. Weak, but undeniable, a heartbeat thumped softly within his chest. Finally catching her notice, the overlooked murmurs of youki tingled the delicate hairs of her cheek.

"You are heavy, miko," a quiet, gravelly voice spoke in whisper and the school girl jerked her head up in surprise. Her shocked stare fell to the demon's tired, bloodshot gaze, the usual bright gold of his irises resembling a darker, ginger hue. Faded in his paleness, the burgundy that once shaded his lids was traded for a pair of black shadows lingering beneath his eyes as he met her brightening face.

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" she blubbered in relief through her fresh tears and shuddering gasps as she threw her arms around the perplexed tai youkai's neck.

"Miko," he groaned under her renewed weight, reaching for her feebly, "Remove yourself now."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Kagome muttered repeatedly with a shameful smile, remaining a moment longer before she withdrew at the pressing touch of his hand. "I thought that you died."

"Hn," he snorted indignantly at the ridiculous notion before unsteadily shifting onto his elbow so that he could sit up. "An unnecessary concern and one that does not need expressing." His weakened muscles throbbed in their ache, failing him alternately while he uneasily lifted his torso from the cold ground. Success being relative, he sat weakly against the light breeze that threatened to send him back down, absently wondering at the prickles of pain that stung his flesh. He winced in annoyance as his searching hand found the gashes ripped into his chest, his reserves of stoicism thoroughly tapped in his exhaustion. To his satisfaction, the loving tendrils of youki moved against his fingers as they slowly healed his wounds, removing the hideous slashes that marred his once flawless skin. Still stained dark red, his claws felt for the encrusted rivulets of dried blood soiling his trunk, He picked away pieces of them from his smooth, unbroken skin, scowling at the chunks embedded in the fine, translucent hairs that graced his stomach.

"Wait," the school girl spoke up as she nimbly rose to her feet and strolled across the worn camp. She returned momentarily with a strange gourd in her hand. Kneeling beside him, she removed the cork at the container's top and poured the clear liquid into her cupped palm. "Hold still."

"This Sesshoumaru can clean himself," the demon reminded sternly with a debilitating glare as the miko soothingly poured the cool water onto the gory mess.

"You know your glares are much more intimidating when you can stand up," she remarked impertinently as she reached forward to rub away the loosening gobs of congealed blood. Sinking regret robbed her of her fleeting smile as his expression darkened dangerously at her comment. "I know how about you tell me where to pour and you clean. I think that's the best arrangement."

"Indeed," he agreed, raising a brow while wiping away the first of the freed clumps with a sweeping pass of his hand. Soon the remnants of his thrashing were gone as the last of his gaping wounds closed before the restorative touch of his demonic aura. Smooth and perfect, his chest was without a scar in remembrance of its earlier wounds.

"Sesshoumaru-sama," Kagome asked hesitantly as he meticulously flicked away the black tar of blood ground beneath his nails. "What happened? I don't remember anything after you disappeared into the ocean. I know we're still at the beach, but what is this place? Why are your clothes in boxes and where are my clothes? Why is there writing on the rock wall over there and why is it the lesson you taught me in the last story? And how, how did you get so injured? I thought you were dead. I don't understand. Nothing makes any sense."

The youkai lord paused in his grooming as her questions poured forth. Rolling a bit of bloody debris between his fingers while he thought, he remained silent even after she finished her lengthy rally of words. The remote hush of the rolling waves breaking on the shore filled the empty air. The school girl knelt uncomfortably in his pause, his unsettling quiet unnerving her as it furthered her belief that he knew well what had happened in the mysterious time that failed her memory.

"It is of no importance, miko," he finally responded, before gesturing to the reed cases strewn across the ground. "I have need of my clothing, would you bring them closer to me."

"You know what happened," she accused heatedly, her anger flaring. "Why won't you tell me? I want to know!"

"It is not available for debate," he answered resolutely in his deep voice now tinged with an edge. "And you will not persuade me otherwise. I require my clothing, will you not aid me?"

"You don't just get to decide what we will or will not talk about!" she countered fully enraged with her arms crossed tightly against her chest to contain her brimming fury. "I'm not a child. I lost that privilege when I came to this era and saw what the world really could be. So tell me! I have a right to know something! Anything!"

Sesshoumaru leaned forward, setting his hand down firmly on the ground while he scooted his feet underneath him. Slowly and shakily, he rose to an unstable crouch before gathering his taxed strength into his legs. With as much grace as he could muster, he rose to stand, his muscles complaining bitterly at his exertion. Taking short, unsteady steps, he approached the furious priestess who had risen to her feet as well, weakly hiding her overwhelming anxiety behind a set jaw and a forced scowl. The tai youkai passed her without pause, stooping tiredly beside a box, his hand seeking the neatly packed hakama pants within. After a gentle shake, they unfolded and he turned to the seemingly distant wall and the likely support it could give him as he dressed.

"Wait," Kagome spoke up softly, before he could take his next hobbling step. She pivoted towards him, taking to the side that lacked a hand. Under his shortened arm she swooped, pressing her shoulders up against him while she bolstered her stance in preparation for his impending weight. A hand gripping his upper arm and the other at his waist, she patiently waited. "All right, I'm ready."

"Hn," he snorted lightly before leaning softly against her to lift his leg into his pants. The leg closest to her went in more awkwardly, but they remained upright despite it. Blushing slightly while she held them up, he deftly knotted the ties at his waist with a practiced hand.

"My pelt," he requested quietly and the school girl slipped out from beneath him to pick up the deep pile of fur. Gathering it as best she could, she cradled the thick pelt securely as she brought it to him. From ivory to an eerie, light green glow, it radiated brightly before its possessor. The strange light passed to the youkai lord when he took it from her arms, laying it carefully over his shoulder. Then the glow faded and the fur curled happily around his shoulder. He felt his sapped strength replenish a little with its return and he let it fall away slightly as Kagome fetched his haori coat.

"I was wondering if maybe I could keep this on," she asked meekly while she nervously fingered the lapel of the undercoat that barely clothed her. He looked over the white silk wrapped loosely around her figure with sleeves rolled to fit her shorter arms and the tails falling easily to her knees

"That goes without question," he replied with a faint smirk at her renewed blush of embarrassment. "That it is more modest than your usual raiment is its own amusement." With a resulting annoyed frown, she thrust the still folded coat toward him. Raising his brows to feign ignorance at her expected irritation, he slipped his arms smoothly into his crimson and white coat, shaking it a few times to settle it in place. His hand found the ties of his hakama pants again and he loosened the straps to tuck his coat in. It would have been wiser to put on his coat before his pants, but after having two naked women in the same day fling themselves at him in his nudity, he discovered that it was the pressing need to have his pants back on that he felt the most.

"Your armor next?" the school girl inquired as she hunched over the oiled, hardened leather and steel at her feet.

"Yes."

A strained grunt escaping her lips, she hoisted the breastplate and its trailing leg guards from its place in the bottom of the box. With heavy breaths marking her labored effort, she carried it to him.

"It's not going to be too heavy for you, is it?" she asked innocently and received her answer in his resulting glare. However, his expression softened quickly before her facetious smirk.

"No," he replied unquestionably, removing the armor easily from her laden arms. Centering the arching, spiked piece over his shoulder, Sesshoumaru tied the leather cords at his waist. Snugly fitted to him, the familiar weight felt good even as his tired muscles ached in their discontent.

Anticipating what was next, Kagome brought his brilliantly yellow and navy, obi sash and together they looped and tied it in its usual intricate fashion. Lastly, only his dark, tabi socks and leather boots waited to be adorned. A nearby, fallen, palm tree caught his eye and the weakened tai youkai limped to the opportunity that presented itself. Sitting on its rough surface, he pulled on his socks and slipped on his boots, fastening them securely.

"You have a lot of clothing," the school girl remarked as she handed him Tokijin and the sheathed Tenseiga.

The demon nodded noncommittally at her observation, unwilling to deny the truth in it. Then he slipped the swords easily into their place beneath the yellow, obi sash at his waist.

"So what happens now?" she asked next, her hand tangled in her hair while she sorted out a knot with her nails. "You won't tell me what happened and there's nothing I can do about that, but we still need the next lines of the poem--"

"We have them," he interrupted from his seat, gesturing with a clawed finger towards the disturbed earth he had wakened in. Hidden in the churned dust was a frosted plaque of ice.

Kagome strolled quickly over to the frozen seal, the strange worry that it might melt before they could read it fueling her eagerness. She grasped the rectangle, lifting it gingerly from its sandy place. Cool, but not quite as chillingly so as real ice, she gently held the light blue seal marbled faintly with delicate wisps of white. Inscribed on its smooth, iced surface was the star-shaped kanji for water and on its reverse waited the lines freeing them from the mysterious tale.

Her sight drifted to the still exhausted demon lord, his eyes closed with the welcoming comfort of sleep beckoning him to its embrace. The story was finished before she knew it had started. No Oto-hime. No gifted box. From waiting a moment on the beach to awakening next to him as he floated near death. What had really happened and why couldn't she remember any of it?

"Sesshoumaru-sama," she called out when she approached him, the next portion of the poem firmly in her hand.

"Hn" he replied as his eyes slowly opened, revealing the black slits of his pupils framed in the dark amber of his reddened stare. Taking the proffered seal she held out, his vision fell to the writing etched sharply on it. "Bobbing along a peach floats. Sweet for bitter it is caught."

"In the hands of love," Kagome spoke next, leaning in close to see the characters. "A proud boy bursts from the pit. Growing tall and strong."

"Evil ogres rob the land. To their island they retreat."

"His allies are three. Dog, monkey and pheasant. Conquer beyond sea," the tai youkai finished and the frosted plaque shattered into a rain of blue sparks. An ominous doorway opened up in the volcanic, rock wall, menacingly inviting the travelers into the darkness of its stairwell.

A scowl at the ready, Sesshoumaru rose unsteadily and began his pained walk to the waiting steps. Soon he disappeared into the gloom of the threshold, leaving the hesitant miko alone with her unfinished thoughts. She looked back at the wafting palm fronds and listened to the distant thunder of waves. The answer to the mystery was here, but her path as it always has been was to the future.

Up the dark, stone stairs she stepped.


	40. Three's a Crowd Q&A

Chapter Forty: Three's a Crowd Q&A

The soft hues of twilight settled in the western sky, marking another cool, fall evening in a faded magenta. Untouched by the dying sunlight, the growing glitter of stars blanketed the rest of the night sky with their flickering radiance. Their spreading glimmer however dimmed before the white glow of the slowly rising moon. A sharp crescent in shape as it always was in the story of eternal autumn; it doused the empty landscape in its dulled, blue light.

Deep within a grove of skeletal trees whose scant, dry leaves crinkled in the light breeze, soft plumes of steam lazily billowed and pooled in the parched air. Beneath the white haze of vapor lay its source, a large pool of dark water. Unhindered by ripples, the starry sky reflected well on the still surface.

Then the smooth plane of the undisturbed spring wrinkled as a richly tanned figure grumbled restlessly in his shadowed corner. Like chaotic flames of a raging fire, his brilliant, red mane of hair hung down his back, seeping into the warm water at his waist. Thick arms crossed against his muscular chest, the unhappily naked man glowered with haunting, crimson eyes.

"This is ridiculous," he growled irritably, the hard lines of his muscles flexing further as his posture stiffened suddenly. "And stop breathing on me, dog!"

"I am sorry, Orochi-san," a warm voice apologized wearily with a long sigh. Nearly touching the annoyed king, the pale, tattooed figure of the inu youkai lord sat beside him in the black pool with a disappointed pout marring his fair face. With tightly corded arms crossed as well, the dog demon's chiseled torso was hidden well behind his melancholy. Then another despondent sigh escaped his lips.

"You are doing it again!" the Dragon King raged heatedly as the menacing glow of his sight found the sulking youkai lord.

"I am sorry, Orochi-san," Shiro repeated dejectedly.

"And stop saying that, you pathetic beast!" the king snarled.

"I cannot help it," the old lord complained bitterly before casually gesturing across the spring with a clawed hand. "It is unfair that I must be exiled to sit with your undesirable self when I could be sitting over there. With her."

"Shiro-darling," a sultry, feminine voice spoke up sweetly. "Unfortunately, neither of you are permitted to sit near me." Seated comfortably against a large, smooth stone at the far edge of the pool, the light blue figure of the Oto-hime reclined contentedly in the soothing heat of the water. Her glittering skin shimmered under the moonlight as she stretched sensually, the upper half of her voluptuous body teasingly revealed in the soft light. "Do know it was not my decision to force you to be in such close company with that angry brute."

"What?" the Dragon King snapped, his vivid eyes leaving the youkai lord for the distant goddess. "What did you call--"

"I understand why he is forbidden," the dog demon interrupted, "Given who he is, he might actually try to devour you." Quickly losing his rage at being ignored, the annoyed king considered the youkai's words for a brief moment before shrugging ambiguously, unwilling to deny the possibility of even a tempted nibble of her heavenly flesh. "I just do not understand why I must keep him company when I am much more suited to sit beside you."

"That is because no questions would be answered if you were allowed to sit near her, dog," the Dragon King remarked with an insidious smirk.

"I do tire of this unsavory reputation that precedes me," Shiro sighed unhappily under his breath, wisely deciding against debating the topic further. The inu youkai instead leaned back, reaching for a pair of delicate glasses resting carefully upon the rock beside him. With a gentle flick of his wrist, they opened up and the demon placed them over the bridge of his nose, their wire lengths hooking behind his elfin ears. Then he blindly searched the top of the rock with his hand, seeking the wrinkled page of questions that he had set there earlier. Finding the damp paper with his fingers, he retrieved it and held it delicately between his sharp nails.

"It appears longer than before," the king grumbled as he noticed the scrawled words that darkened the page on both sides. "This is not a good omen."

"There was much more participation this time when the questions were requested. Most reviewers asked at least one and as you will see, there were a considerable number who were quite carried away and asked several."

"I will remember them," the Dragon King threatened ominously, his gleaming, red eyes brightening.

"Well then without further delay, let us begin," Shiro spoke up brightly, his pearlescent smile dulling the darkened, sinister expression of the dragon beside him. "Our first question comes from Alexandraya. She asks, "Is there any particular reason we are calling them 'boys' when they are in fact both quite older than anyone reading this story?" Kushi-san, would you answer?"

"Of course, Shiro-darling," the seductress purred. "My dear Alexandraya, we call them boys so that it is easier to objectify them. And these fine men are meant to be objectified."

"We are nothing, but meat to them," the king growled sourly.

"I might be able to live with that," the old demon shrugged. "Our next question is from the ever persistent Dark Darianna Minamino. "Does Shiro-sama forgive me for not remembering that he was naked the entire time we actually got to talk to him?"

"You were not naked throughout your story."

"Hush Orochi-san," Shiro whispered sharply before raising his voice in a doleful tone, "No, I am still quite saddened and hurt by your cruel remarks. To think that you would forget who I am and state it so with such careless finesse. My fractured heart continues to sink at the very thought. I will hope that you will mend this situation in a way only a woman can. I will await your true apology."

"That was shameless, Shiro-darling," Oto-hime remarked, "But, I cannot say that I do not approve."

"I meant for her to cook me dinner, Kushi-san," the inu youkai spoke with a raised brow before shaking his head woefully. "I would never take advantage of a young woman in the manner you suggest. I do have a few principles."

"Unlikely," the Dragon King stated harshly with convicting doubt. "Continue the questions, dog."

"This query is from Taisho, Hana. "I'm glad the naked men are returning. Will they reappear in the story?" Now, Orochi-san, if you would."

"No, we are finished with our parts," the king answered succinctly, "With the exception of the revolting act of forcing us to answer these absurd questions. Note that I hold nothing but contempt for all of you reading this."

"Well, it is good to see that your mood is improving," Shiro remarked cheerfully. "The following one comes from Missy Misa - YourLastNightmare. She asks "How are you guys able to withstand each other alone and naked in that hot spring? I understand Shiro-sama's need of nudity though. It's so fun! Wouldn't you rather prefer the company of Kagome or Kushinada-hime, Susanou's ...ex-wife? Man you guys need to get laid."

"She is a nightmare," the Dragon King remarked with a scowl.

"It is not unusual for men to accompany each other in the hot spring and given the choice between Orochi-san and Kushi-san, I believe you all undoubtedly know my preference. And as for commenting on our need "to get laid", are you offering yourself for our appeasement?"

"My dear Missy Misa, you will have your hands full among other things," the smiling goddess commented none too subtly.

"Why don't we move on to the next query, shall we? Our next question is from Ishallmay. "Shiro-sama, are you single?"

"Is that a real question?" the suspicious king accused, leaning in to read the flimsy paper.

"Jealous, Orochi-san?" the old lord said with a growing grin of satisfaction at the grumbling dragon who had since straightened up begrudgingly in defeat. "I have to believe you must be. And as for the answer, I am whatever you wish me to be, Ishallmay-san."

"This session is degrading swifter than the previous one already."

"The following query is from Pretty P."

"The attractive letter again."

"Indeed. She asks "How did Sesshoumaru's clan build their wealth? Shiro doesn't seem to be very... ah, aristocratic or very concerned with wealth, power, and influence. Just wondering what happened between the generations."

"This day has suddenly improved," the Dragon King chuckled darkly, his laughs hanging heavily in the quiet air, only to be joined by the dulcet snickering of the goddess unable to keep her tongue.

"Do not frown, Shiro-darling. You are a bit uncultured, but no less lovable."

"Thank you both for your confidences in my lordship," the dog demon acknowledged sarcastically. "As for your perfectly valid question Pretty P-san, wealth in a youkai society is based on personal power and the amount of land in which one may wield it. A warrior does not need to carry a sword at all times to prove his nature or strength. To be candid, I acquired a considerable quantity of territory before my imprisonment, thus securing my title and related provinces for my clan. I suppose the singular difference between me and my brood would be that they were born into the aristocracy and its etiquette when I simply founded it.

Since that has been discussed enough, I will move on to the next question from child_of_the_moon. I wonder who her father is if she was borne of the moon?"

"Ask the question, dog."

"For both of our naked guys: I was curious, who does Sesshoumaru respect more: Shiro or the Dragon King?"

"Who is Sesshoumaru?" the king asked in a hushed voice.

"I think it was my elitist pup's name."

"Hn."

"Well, that is easy to answer," Shiro replied assuredly, "As a member of my clan, he respects my authority more and as the former eight-forked serpent of ultimate evil, he respects Orochi-san's power more."

"So, you two negate each other and he respects neither of you?" Oto-hime remarked thoughtfully.

"That would most likely be the true answer," the old lord shrugged apathetically. "The following query is from Mika Oimikado and is directed to both me and the Dragon King. What are your feelings for Kagome? (platonic, romantic, fatherly...etc)?"

"Dinner," the dragon answered with a nod and a satisfied frown.

"Play toy would be my estimation. And as we are presently on the subject of the fair, young miko, the subsequent questions will now all revolve around the often query-provoking chapters of the Urashima Taro story. The first one was jointly asked by soledd, mischievous female, Kogas Woman."

"I wonder if she is more mischievous than me?" the goddess considered aloud, biting gently on her nail in her feigned innocence.

"That I would doubt," Shiro stated undeniably. "At any rate, they would like to know why Kagome forgot. What would be the purpose? Wouldn't remembering her endurance make her stronger? Wouldn't his sacrifice make her respect Sesshoumaru more?" This question is not unlike the one posed by thirdfury and Rosedream, who asked "Is Kagome going to remember her time from when Sesshoumaru was away?" Kushi-san, if it pleases you."

"Hmm," she purred thoughtfully before answering. "To understand why she does not remember, you must consider the nature of having years returned to you as opposed to simply having your youth regained. Those years she spent on the island were removed when Sesshoumaru opened the box. It is impossible to recall a time that never happened to you and that is exactly what the box gifted, her lost time. Do you believe she would truly want to remember those lonely years that scarred her soul? I have spent a fair amount of time more than she did in my solitude and I would gladly forget them if the opportunity presented itself."

"Dark Darianna Minamino, Ice Vixen X and malitiadixie ask "Will Sesshoumaru ever tell her what happened like she wants him to?" Orochi-san, it is your turn."

"No, he will not," the king answered curtly before quieting into his usual glower.

"That's it?"

"Yes."

"Well then, the following question was asked by taixishi, Nicnivan and said very softly to me by InuWhisperer. "Will Kagome ever find out any of what happened during the thirty-five years she "lost" when Sesshomaru opened the box?"

"Perhaps," the seductress remarked cryptically, "But the likelihood seems dim if our lovely youkai lord does not impart it to her. One must have patience to wait and see."

"Our next query was asked by the long-winded, Flanders the Flemmy."

"Sounds... mucousy," the Dragon King commented with a mildly disgusted frown.

"Indeed, but I will not be one to judge," the inu youkai lord conceded. "The question though is this: "Kagome seems to have returned to the way she was when Sesshoumaru left for Oto-hime's underwater palace but, does that mean that EVERYTHING has reverted? Even those increased spiritual powers she had through years of living in the wilderness? Personally, I don't see much reason in mentioning them if you were going to mystically get rid of them the next chapter."

"They were very important to mention," the king replied. "This dog, Sesshoumaru did not grant her his years out of some misguided concept of right and wrong. He did not give them to her, because he pitied her. The strength she showed, the powers she gained and the respect she earned are what guided his hand to open the box. If she had pathetically whittled away her time on the beach to pitifully pine for his return, then she would have received nothing from him."

"Ah, to reward those who honor us," Shiro remarked proudly in memory of his pup, "He has chosen pride above shame. There is no nobler path. Now, this following question is from inudemoness247, whose name makes one wonder how many inu demonesses there are in the world. She asks "Kagome does not seem to remember any of it and I am sure the skill she gained (her aim for example) probably has left also. I do have a question though - Is there any chance that she might gain some of those skills back by the end of the seven stories?" Kushi-san?"

"Since the beauty of the last story was that she became wonderfully skilled when she applied herself, it is quite safe to say that one day; Kagome will be as powerful as she was at the end of her thirty-five years of isolation. That however will not be possible within the time period remaining in the scrolls. She has grown though and the lessons Sesshoumaru has taught her will benefit her far into the future."

"Perhaps the most popular question was posed by DragonLuvr1993, dirtydogs57, Wolfye Productions and Fluffy Lady," the old lord continued when the goddess finished. "Why didn't Sesshoumaru tell her what had happened, if at least in as little detail as possible. Did he see it as a weakness of his that he helped her or something?"

"Dogs always have their reasons, whether they make sense to the rest of us is negotiable," the Dragon King answered cynically, "As for the response, that dog keeps to himself, so you will have to be patient to see if it is revealed."

"Our next query comes from Ivy Darklight."

"Hn. Can light be dark?" the dragon asked, his expression marked with puzzlement.

"I have my doubts, but that is not the question. What is being asked is, "How much is Sesshoumaru going to regret turning Kags young again?" The lovely Kushi-san, you are next."

"He does not seem the type to regret," she answered, "So I doubt he will. That does not mean she won't inspire further headaches for him."

"This question was inquired by the ever perplexing child_of_the_moon and the ever sexy Ishallmay."

"You are only calling her sexy, because she asked if you were single," the king remarked snidely, the accusing glare of his glowing, crimson eyes falling to the dog demon beside him.

"Are you implying that I am biased?" Shiro asked innocently under the hot stare.

"Yes."

"Then you have implied correctly," he answered with a smile before the growing glower of the dragon. "Now, as for their query: "Did the box do anything else to Sesshoumaru? And did it do anything other than give 35 years back to Kagome?"

"So, other than severely damaging his health?"

"I suppose."

"Then, no."

"And Kagome-san?"

"She is fine too."

"Our next inquiry is from KeiGinya. "How old was Kagome in this story before she reverted back to teen-dom?" Kushi-san, if you will."

"This fiction is intended to be as canon as possible, so Kagome after thirty-five years would be firmly at the age of fifty to fifty-one," the goddess replied, pressing a purple nail to her dark lip in thought.

"This especially valid question is from Fleeting Dream. She asks, "Do the swords still have their same aura in the scrolls? Because in this chapter Kagome picked up Tokijin. I was wondering, because I thought no one other than Sesshoumaru could even touch the sword."

"There are several ways to answer this question," the king remarked, "One could say that when Sesshoumaru claimed the ogre-tooth sword, he dominated it completely and thoroughly crippled its dangerous presence through his own will. Or as an element of the barrier, the nature of the scroll subjugated Tokijin so that it could not harm the tasty miko. There are many possibilities. Perhaps it even waylayed its own dark desires so that it would not rust on the beaches while it awaited its master."

"An interesting query comes from Angelicatt and Flanders the Flemmy. They ask, "Is Kagome going to traipse around the last two stories in Sesshoumaru's undershirt?" I am curious about this myself. Kushi-san?"

"I do not see why she cannot acquire other clothing in her travels. If she is willing to look, the scrolls will provide. Then again, perhaps the silk of his undershirt might be quite comfortable. I would keep it if I were her and perhaps conspire to acquire the rest of his clothing."

"You have fallen far have you not, Kushi-san?"

"All the way to the bottom of the ocean, Shiro-darling."

"In the same vein, we have the next question from venG, where it seems the "G" is the most important aspect of her name. She asks, "I wonder, what will be Inuyasha's reaction to Kagome's new outfit?" Orochi-san?"

"If I were Sesshoumaru," the Dragon King considered, stroking his chin with his fire blackened nails. "I would strip her of it before she left. Good, silk undershirts are hard to come by."

"And Inuyasha's reaction to her lack of an outfit?"

"Pleased."

"I would have to agree," Shiro replied, nodding appreciatively while he turned the page over. "Our questions will now consist of the future and its possibilities. We promise vague answers and perhaps the occasional misleading one from Orochi-san."

"I am evil," the king conceded with a casual shrug.

"The first question is from the self-assured, Angelicatt. "I know the story of the Peach Boy - who's going to be who I wonder?"

"Being that they trade off on the lead roles in each, subsequent tale," the seductress answered sweetly, "If Sesshoumaru was Urashima Taro in my story, then I believe you now know who will be "Peach Boy" in the next one."

"The next query is from Kogas Woman who seems addicted to asking questions. Her latest one is, "How long have they been in the scroll?" Orochi-san, this one is for you."

"Five stories worth of time," the Dragon King replied concisely.

"Is that it?"

"Yes."

"Very well. The following question is from Mika Oimikado and again from Kogas Woman. "Will you write a chapter about the current situation of Kagome's friends and Sesshoumaru's group in the real world?" Kushi-san, if you do not mind."

"Of course not, Shiro-darling," she purred, "And the answer is that this is a tale about Sesshoumaru and Kagome. What their comrades are doing in their absence is important, but not as relevant as what our travelers are doing at any given time. This fiction is long enough without the need to explore their friends' actions as well."

"An often posed question over the last few months was brought up by Flanders the Flemmy. "Will Susanou be making an appearance himself anytime soon?" I imagine you might like to answer this one, Orochi-san."

"Not particularly," the king snarled in distaste at the mentioning of the hated deity. "He is a god who has not likely thought about this scroll since he sealed us within it. A visit would not be high on his list of priorities."

"A perplexing question from Ivy Darklight and I am still searching for the relevance. She poses this inquiry, "Are you going to have Kagome re-grow Sesshoumaru's arm?"

"Sesshoumaru does quite well with one arm," Oto-hime replied. "And if this story intends to remain canon in nature, then it would be a poor idea for her to re-grow it, don't you think?"

"The next query is from both TheMikoShivae and Wolfye Productions, who apparently produces wolfyes. They ask the obviously desirable question, "When will we get a Q&A with a naked Sesshoumaru?"

"There are too many women who read this story," the Dragon King grumbled unhappily. "As for getting that dog to sit naked in this water and answer these detestable and endless questions, good luck."

"The lovely Jessica asks the following, "How much longer do you think this story will be?"

"Given the rate it has been going," the goddess answered pensively, "My best guess would be another fifty thousand words at the most. It has grown with such complexity from its original concept, however with the final stories mapped out in their depths; this fiction is most definitely at the two-thirds point in its completion."

"Certain concerns have risen after the finishing of the Urashima Taro Arc," Shiro remarked solemnly. "And one in particular is posed by Elora. "Is your author a believer in happy endings? Because after the most recent chapter, I don't think my heart could take it if she killed someone! Thank you!"

"Our author wishes to create suspense and drama whenever she can," the Dragon King replied. "However, despite any and all of the dilemmas that fall upon the dog and the miko, she wants the story to forever be nauseatingly uplifting and soul searing for her readers who partake in this strange journey. Personally, I would like her to kill them both, but what can I say, I am utterly evil in every capacity--"

"Thank you, Orochi-san," the old lord interrupted swiftly. "With the eventual ending of the fiction coming closer with every chapter, there have been many inquiries about its conclusion. FlowerGirl and dirtydogs57 have this to ask about the impending finish. "Since there are only two stories left, will there be an epilogue? Or will you just end it after the two stories?"

"Well, if one can remember the beginning chapters," Oto-hime responded after some thought, "Then it would be revealed that the poem would not be finished with the required, final lines of poetry from the seventh tale. An epilogue seems quite necessary."

"Another query growing in popularity is this one asked by Mika Oimikado, "After finishing the seven tales...is it the end or are you going to write a sequel?"

"There will be no sequel, so enjoy it while it lasts," the king replied brusquely.

"It is nice to know that you do not spare anyone's feelings, Orochi-san," Shiro remarked.

"It is what I do best."

"Now it is time for the perpetually returning questions about love. Without fail, they always come back as the hope for the tiniest sliver of romance lingers without absolution one way or another. The first of the two questions is from Shoomy2003. She fervently asks, "When's our good lord going to realize that he wants to do our little miko? Seriously! It's rated M! I want some lusting at least!"

"If they wanted lusting and sexual themes, then perhaps I should have had my way with your great-grandpup, Shiro-darling," the seductress spoke up with a pout in her regret. "As for the rating, it is meant for a mature audience and not necessarily for its potentially graphic content. It is for the subtle concepts that arise in a story that is so embroidered with character exploration. Adult material for adults. Not to mention, the freedom to write is endless with the highest rating. When there is no maturity ceiling to be wary of, then a writer can truly be liberated in what they type."

"Now for the often forbidden question posed by the rebels inudemoness247, InuWhisperer, Taisho, Hana and Ivy Darklight. "Is there a chance for some sort of romance to form even in the smallest amount?"

"Women," the Dragon King growled snidely, "If you cannot find the subtle romance in the dog tenderly brushing the hair from the miko's face as she hugs him, then perhaps you are not seeing the forest for the trees."

"That was quite sensitive, vicious brute," the demure goddess spoke with a smile, her violet eyes finding the red stare of the dragon. "Are you getting softer in your time here?"

"Having children can change any beast, Kushi-san," Shiro commented sagely, "To think it only took fifteen hundred years. He has grown so much."

"Both of your deaths are imminent. Do not doubt it," the king snarled wrathfully.

"These next questions are about the fiction itself," the dog demon lord quickly changed the subject to hopefully quell the roiling anger of the dragon at his side. "It has been some time since this particular query presented by Elise has been asked. She would like to know, "What are the origins of the fairy tales? I know most are Japanese, but almost all of the stories mentioned so far I knew since I was little so it is hard to really pin point their origin from memory alone."

"They are all Japanese," Oto-hime answered resolutely, "In fact they are from an old, frayed novel lent to the author uncannily by her friend of the same name, Elise. Even Susanou's story is founded on an old Japanese myth."

"Here is a question which has never actually been asked in any capacity. It is strange that is has not, since one of the most common elements in most reviews relates to the originality of this odd, little fiction. Asked by ILuvFLUFFYmarshmellows, "What gave your author the inspiration to write this story and how did she come up with such an original plot?" Orochi-san, if you would."

"Hn," the Dragon King snorted in discontent before answering, "The author wrote this fiction to practice her hand at writing novel length stories. She chose these two as a pair for their lack of a relationship and therefore the resulting freedom available to her to expand on it however she chose. The fairy tale jumping was inspired by Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles, which has very little to do with this fiction when it comes to plotlines, but the concept of switching from world to world intrigued her.

While none of the fairy tales have been changed since they were chosen before she began writing the story, the overall purpose of the scroll has. Its intention to imprison Susanou's enemies did not present itself until the beginning of the third arc and with the creation of Shiro. In fact, there was nearly no Shiro and Sesshoumaru was going to play the role of the white dog in The Old Man Who Could Make Withered Trees Bloom. It was decided though that he was not in any sort of emotional state to allow some wretched man to hit him over the head with a shovel. The stupid dog over here though is dumb enough to let it go on for fifteen hundred years. So perhaps it was for the best, since with Shiro arrived the Clan of Shiro and the growth Sesshoumaru would need for his sacrifice later on in Urashima Taro."

"And I am glad to be here," the old lord replied with a grin, "We have only two more questions and this session will be complete."

"Good, this has gone on for far too long, dog."

"The next question is a rather flattering one. It is posed by InuWhisper and she asks, "Has this story been nominated for any awards yet?"

"Actually, it has won quite a few awards, much to the author's immense happiness." Oto-hime replied sweetly. "She would like to thank everyone who has ever nominated and voted for her story. Every recognition she has received has been a great honor."

"Now finally, as with the last Q&A, we come to another similar question posed by the always unusual, Mika Oimikado and it is meant for me. "Shiro-sama, please ask Sesshou-kun to do the naked dance with you again, after all he was nearly naked in the 5th story. BUT, not just the two of you, I want Dragon King to do the naked dance too!"

"You boys sure do know how to entertain a girl," the goddess remarked with a giggle.

"So, Orochi-san, do you want to--"

"No."

"Just a short dance."

"No."


	41. Pit of Darkness

Chapter Forty-One: Pit of Darkness

With a soft, plaintive murmur, Kagome stirred weakly under the heavy veil of her shadowy sleep. Devoid of dream, the sinking weight of its emptiness lifted slowly as her mind drifted towards consciousness. Blinking her heavy lids as she awoke, her newly opened eyes found the same darkness that plagued her slumber. The school girl fixed her mouth into a frown as she reached to lightly brush the remaining vestiges of sleep from her sight. The last that she could remember was stepping up the dark stairs carved into the rock wall on the beach. She grumbled irritably. Her tendency to inexplicably wake up in strange places had become a very unwelcomed habit lately.

The soreness of her pressed cheek drew her annoyance next and she lifted her heavy head to rub away the pain. Under the delicate touch of her fingers, Kagome felt her face and found the long, triangular imprint that marked her displeasure. Gently, she massaged her cheek, the tenderness beginning to lessen after a few strokes. Once satisfied, her hand left her face to feel for the culprit behind her discomfort. Smooth and hard, the tapering curve of a metal spike greeted her touch. She followed its short length to the flat piece that it was securely anchored to. Puzzled by the persisting mystery, the school girl continued her exploration, tracing her finger down the elegant edge of the small plate and then fingering the feathery threads of a tassel she found at its end. She left its tickling caress for the fine grain of hardened leather. As her hand glided over the wrinkled relief, it gradually dawned on her that it was armor that delighted her fingers and all of which was swiftly followed by the revelation of exactly whose.

"Sesshoumaru-sama," Kagome whispered loudly in the absolute darkness, "Sesshoumaru-sama, are you awake?" Silence greeted her ears and fueled her pressing concern. The recent and disturbing memory of him caked in blood as he laid lifeless on the sand haunted her thoughts and her stomach turned as a drowning wave of dread washed over her. "Sesshoumaru-sama, please answer me."

His unsettling quiet remained, hanging in the warm air ominously. Unwilling to wait any longer, the anxious school girl shifted her body to straddle the youkai lord's torso with her knees falling to his sides and onto the smooth floor he laid upon. Sitting back, she moved to sit up and cried out when her head met the low surface overhead. With moist eyes and a mumbled curse, she soothingly rubbed the freshly forming bruise at the back of her head. Eventually, her hesitant hand left the tender bump for the unexpected ceiling that she had struck so enthusiastically. Even to the touch like sanded wood, Kagome brushed the back of her hand over the sharply sloping surface, tracing its curve until it was broken by the thick line of a seam. Mirroring the ceiling, the arc turned in as it continued to form the floor.

"An oval?" she said softly under her breath as her hand now glided lengthwise, feeling the longer, but undoubtedly similar tapering curve she had found along its width. Sure of her rather confining surroundings, the school girl carefully inched up the tai youkai's body while she searched keenly for his face. Her delicate touch ghosted over the cool silk of his coat and the fine strands of his strangely disheveled hair. Then she swallowed down when her questing fingers found the hard line of his jaw and the smooth, unblemished skin of his cheek. Slipping down along the bone, she found the knob of his chin and with trembling anticipation, her hand drifted up to feel the soft flesh of his parted lips. Her fingers left his mouth to comb her thick locks of hair away from her ear and then she leaned in, listening earnestly for his breaths while she held her own. Shallow and easy, the puffs he exhaled gently warmed the thin skin of her ear, relieving her worry more with every rhythmic motion. She sighed giddily as she hovered over him, reveling in the quiet sound of his unfailing life.

"Miko," the smooth baritone of the demon's voice spoke up, interrupting her odd delight with his puzzlement, "Why are you sitting astride me and listening to me breathe?" In her surprise, Kagome jerked away from his face and with a loud thump her ill-fated head met the low ceiling yet again.

"Dammit," she muttered angrily, feeling timidly for the twice-struck lump while she winced from the sharp spike of renewed pain. Even though she could not see it, she knew he was entertaining his usual furrowed brow at her awkwardness.

"Well?"

"I don't know what happened after we stepped up the stairs," she explained tersely and followed with a pained hiss as she gently rubbed the growing bump, "But when I woke up, I was laying on top of you. It seems like we're in some sort of oval-shaped container. There's no room to move, even if I wanted to."

"Hn," he grunted in irritation at the apparent confinement, "And your proximity to my mouth?"

"Uh," the school girl stalled uneasily before his inescapable question, the only glimmer in her swelling embarrassment arising from the fact that the discerning tai youkai could not likely see the rosy blush flushing her cheeks at the moment. "I just wanted to check, that's all."

"Check for what?"

"To see if you were still breathing?" she admitted nervously, ending her unpleasant reply in a question in the dim hope that it would seed some doubt in the uncomfortable truth. As she spoke it though, she knew her weak ruse had failed and that somewhere in the darkness there was a glare intended for her.

"Hn," he snorted indignantly at the suggestion behind the miko's words, "I will not die from so petty an ailment. It would be in your best interest to--"

"Not concern myself," Kagome interrupted, finishing his answer before he could speak it. "I know. I know. But, you didn't have to see yourself on the beach. You didn't have to wonder if... if you would ever wake up again."

He remained in pensive quiet even as the fading words of her trailing thoughts ceased. After a long pause, she felt him shift beneath her with the satin caress of his silk sleeve brushing against her shoulder as he moved. The light scrape of his claws soon followed, its hushed sound dragging across the ceiling.

"Get down, miko," he commanded sternly as he withdrew his hand and from beneath her prone body she felt him tense. Heeding his warning, she collapsed against his chest with her face buried into the dip of his neck. Hard and fast, the youkai lord's fist flew, striking hard against the smooth surface with a resounding crack. Even while it shuddered under the force of his blow, the ceiling remained undeniably intact as it flashed vibrantly in a brilliant blue showering of sparks. The glittering light lingered unnaturally in the hot air and the school girl lifted her shielded head to embrace the rare radiance. She gasped lightly in surprise when her eyes found the close and unusually teal stare of the demon; its hue dyed so by the strange glow. Slowly falling from the ceiling, dazzling clumps of dying light surrounded the silent travelers. Kagome moved her mouth as if to speak, but soon realized that her usually plentiful words had failed her. Instead, she remained speechless in their shared sight as the growing darkness gradually reclaimed its hold.

"That didn't work," she finally managed as the last of the illumination faded until only the mesmerizing image of the youkai lord and the small space they shared lingered in her mind.

"No, it did not," Sesshoumaru replied with a faint sigh, his nails finding a few tangled locks of his silken hair. Steadily and carefully, he combed them while he thought. "Have you deduced what tale we are in yet?"

"Bobbing along a peach floats. Sweet for bitter it is caught," the school girl answered with a few verses of the poem. "It has to be Momotaro, the story of the boy born from a peach."

"And?"

"You don't know the story of Momotaro? It's probably one of the most famous folktales ever told."

"I would not ask if I did," he answered sharply, annoyed at her apparent disbelief.

"I'm sorry," she apologized before she began, pressing a finger to her lip as she recalled its familiar details from her distant memory. "It was a story that my grandfather used to always tell me before I went to bed. I hope I do it some justice.

Many years ago, there was an old, barren couple who had never known children and who worked hard to keep their meager living. The husband would leave everyday to cut the grass on the mountains while his wife remained behind to tend their field and keep the house. One day as she went to the river to wash their laundry, she saw a large peach floating on the water. Wanting it for her husband's dinner, she reached for it, but try as she might, it was too far for her to catch. Just when she thought to give up, she remembered an ancient charm and while she sang its tune, it lured the fruit to the shore and into her waiting hands.

Quickly, she took the peach home and set it aside for the old man's return. At the end of the day when he came home, it was to his delight that his wife gave him the fruit for his supper. Retrieving a knife to cut it, he was stopped by a strange voice and the fruit split in half. From its divided pit, a small boy emerged. The proud child declared he was a gift from the heavens to reward the dutiful couple for their devoted years of hard work."

"Issunboshi," the tai youkai remarked.

"In a way I suppose so," Kagome replied thoughtfully, "But, this boy will grow in this story to become tall and strong. After many years, but before he became an adult, Momotaro went to his father and thanked him for looking after him for so long. The old man told the boy that it was all fair, because one day, he would look after them when they grow truly old. Agreeing to the exchange, Momotaro asked his father for one favor before he committed to looking after them. Unwilling to deny his only son any wish, the old man asked what he desired. The boy said he desired to travel and to find the evil band of ogres that had been attacking the innocent villagers far to the north. Vile and cannibalistic, the monsters pillaged the land and defied the just emperor before retreating to their haven upon an island on the sea. Despite their worry for his safety, Momotaro's parents allowed him to go to his destiny. But before he left, they gave him a sharp sword and ground out three rice cakes in their mortar to feed his hunger for the journey ahead.

Over the roads, the boy traveled until he came to the shade of a tree in a field. There he stopped to eat one of his cakes, but as he went to bite, an angry and ferocious dog appeared. The animal greedily demanded all of his cakes as a toll for him to pass. However, Momotaro laughed at his threat and told of his journey to slay the band of ogres. He added that if he needed to, he would slice the dog in two if he stood against him, but that he would share half of his cake if the animal instead chose to follow him. The dog eagerly agreed and they continued the trek together."

"Ridiculous," Sesshoumaru sneered.

"It's not you. It's just a dog."

"Hn."

"At least I hope it won't be you," she mumbled softly before beginning her telling again. "As they came to pass some hills, a monkey appeared before them. Much to the dog's jealousy, it swiftly begged to become a comrade of Momotaro's army. The two animals began to fight, but the boy came between them and gave the monkey half a cake and allowed him to join. Their quarrels did not lessen and Momotaro finally divided them, the dog to the front and the monkey at the rear.

Next, they came to a tree where a brilliantly colored pheasant roosted. From the branches, it flew below to attack the dog. Momotaro could not help but admire the bird's tenacity and asked it to join his party or be killed by the dog. Given the choice, the pheasant easily surrendered and it too ate its half of a rice cake happily.

The animals though still quarreled despite being comrades and Momotaro took them aside. He told them that they would never win if they battled amongst themselves and the next one who fought would be discharged on the spot. Under this persuasion, they all ceased and they became fast friends. After several more days of journeying, they arrived at the ocean shore.

The fear of the vast sea and no way to cross disheartened the animals, but Momotaro's courage and sureness bolstered their nerve. The boy soon found a boat and he and his comrades entertained each other on the long voyage to the island.

Upon arriving, Momotaro sent the pheasant ahead to challenge the ogres while he and the rest of the animals snuck onto the beach. Upon the roof of the fortress the bird perched, announcing the boy general's arrival and granting the monsters their opportunity to surrender. The ogres laughed at the pheasant's demands and prepared for battle. Soon, they were attacking the bird, but it easily dodged the blows of their iron maces and dove in to slash at their bare heads with its talons.

Roaming over the shoreline, Momotaro, the dog and the monkey searched for a way into the stronghold and found two young women by a stream. Dressed in blood stained clothing, they begged the boy and his comrades to save them from the evil desires and insatiable hunger of the ogres and their feared warlord.

Together, they entered a secret passageway into the fortress and heard the onslaught brought by the pheasant. Into the fray Momotaro and the animals charged, cutting down the vicious band as they went. Soon there were none left alive save for the beaten warlord. In an act of submission, the monster broke the horns from his head and allowed himself to be chained up in preparation to march before the waiting wrath of the emperor.

Momotaro freed the many women, all daughters of various lords and he and his compatriots loaded the ship with treasure. They returned to the mainland as heroes and were regarded highly throughout the provinces. As promised, the boy returned home with his animal comrades in tow, all bearing the treasure of his adventure for his parents. Together, they all lived in comfort and wealth until the end of their days." With a deep sigh of satisfaction at its telling, Kagome finished her story.

"A complicated tale."

"Yeah," she agreed quietly, "But, if we think about how the story begins..."

"Then we are in the peach pit."

"Exactly."

"Hm," the tai youkai murmured questionably, turning his head slightly as he listened intently.

"What is it? Do you hear something?"

"A song."


	42. Momotaro

Chapter Forty-Two: Momotaro

"A song?" Kagome repeated in question, straining her dull ears as she listened for the elusive tune. However even while she held her breath, the alluded music was too faint for her to hear behind the thick walls of pulp and pit. With a sigh, she gave up and pouted grumpily in her disappointment. "What can you hear?"

"It is a woman's voice," the tai youkai replied after a moment with a furrowed brow, his usually acute hearing also hindered by the insulating fruit.

"It must be the old woman. Can you hear the lyrics?"

"Distant water is bitter," he answered flatly as the words slowly revealed themselves to his ears, their sweet melody lost in the monotonous baritone of his voice. "The near water is sweet. Pass by the distant water. And come into the sweet."

Her stomach rising to meet her throat, the school girl felt the comfort of the demon drop away from her in the pitch black before it returned abruptly and slammed her weightless figure into the hard spikes and leather of his armor. She groaned achingly as her probing fingers reached for the tender spots on her chest, the thin silk of the undercoat having protected her little from the pointed curves of metal.

"Are you injured, miko?" Sesshoumaru asked, his clawed hand rising above to brace against the low ceiling as gentler tremors rolled through the peach.

"I think... I'm okay," Kagome answered weakly as she coughed back her breath stolen by the blow. Then the lasting daze still clouding her mind quickly dissipated as the violent lurch returned. Frantically, she felt for the edges of the demon's armor, gripping it roughly while she pressed her body against him. Prepared now for the churn, the next swell of motion passed benignly unlike the last, rocking the fruit back and forth in its wake. "What's going on?"

"The woman's song is attracting the peach to her," he explained coolly, easily steadying himself against the constant sway with his extended arm. "We are no longer flowing with the current."

"How long will--"

"She has caught us," he interrupted, incidentally answering the miko's question before she could finish asking it. Following his words, the pitching of the fruit upon the water ceased and a strange stillness enveloped their dark world. Kagome shifted restlessly against the demon, the soft rhythms of her heavy breaths and rapid pulse drowned out by the stark calm around them.

Then with a startled squeak and a jarring blow, the school girl fell back hard, her spine meeting the wooden ceiling now turned floor. Lacking options, Sesshoumaru followed her as their vessel turned over, collapsing onto his forearm as he hovered over her. Loosened from their place by the jolt, long, delicate strands of his hair cascaded over the prone miko, bathing her skin with their tickling lengths. Mingling with the pendulous locks, the contrasting sensations of rough armor and smooth silk brushed through her flimsy garment and against her flesh as the careful demon lightly pressed against her.

A hot blush warmed Kagome's cheeks as in turn the tai youkai's steady breaths warmed the crown of her head, reminding her without fail of his strangely intimate presence. Their unavoidable closeness within the pit had been easy to ignore when she sat astride him. Now though, she lay pinned beneath his weight and every grazing touch reminded her of their suggestive positions. It wasn't just that. Somewhere beneath the thin surface of embarrassment hid another emotion that disturbed her further, drying her throat and glossing her eyes with its empty feeling. The foreign ache of solitude and the sinking dread she harbored in her heart for when the comfort of the demon would leave her side.

"How much longer do you think we'll be in here?" she asked quietly, the unusual hesitation in her voice quirking the youkai lord's brow.

"If one can expect this tale to follow its origin, then we will not be able to free ourselves until the elderly husband chooses to eat the fruit."

"I suppose you're right," she agreed timidly, a growing unease seeping into her tone as contemplations on loneliness absently drifted her thoughts back to the puzzling beach and its secrets.

"We are being carried to her house," the demon elaborated on the rhythmic sway of the gently swinging peach, guessing at the nature of her concern. "We will escape soon enough." Despite feeling her fragile figure fixed beneath his body, the distance in her silence remained after he finished, perplexing him further. "What is troubling you, miko?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Why?"

"Because, even though you're asking what's troubling me, I know you're not willing to answer any of the questions that are troubling me."

"Then ask one that I will be willing to answer."

"Ugh," she groaned in frustration, her familiar fury igniting at the nonchalance of his remark. "You are so aggravating, did you know that?"

"Yes, I did," Sesshoumaru replied thoughtfully. "Are you contented now or do you have any other queries that concern you?"

"No, I have more," she quickly spoke up with a myriad of questions pressing behind her lips, all demanding to be asked and none she knew he would answer. What happened on the beach? What was that camp and why did it feel both foreign and oddly familiar? Why were his clothes in boxes and why were hers lost? Did he meet the Oto-hime and did she give him the box of time? And finally, how did a warrior like him get so grievously injured in a world where neither of them could die? Mysterious and tempting, they all floated through the forefront of her mind. Yet despite their appeal, according to the tai youkai's earlier and absolute stance, they were all completely and disappointingly unanswerable.

"Ask," he ordered brusquely when her indecision persisted.

"I know you won't tell me about what happened on the beach, but can you at least tell me why you won't tell me? I need a reason. Any reason."

"Hn," he snorted softly at her request, pausing for a long moment as he mulled over his reply. "There are times when the past is best left to be forgotten by more than those who cannot remember it."

"But--"

"That is all I will say on that subject."

"Then can I ask one more question?"

"If you wish."

"Why am I afraid of being alone?"

"It will pass."

"How do you know?"

"It is simple. How can you be alone if you are here with this Sesshoumaru?" Unusually wordless, Kagome opened her mouth to speak, but her voice failed her as she was snared by the baffling significance of his words. That is until she realized how inadequately it had answered her question.

"You are not a lord of youkai, but of vague and unfulfilling answers."

"An uncommon compliment, but I will accept it."

With a sudden and harsh jolt, the easy rocking of their unseen world ended with a nausea inducing wobble before it finally settled. Gulping down her queasiness, the school girl shifted slightly as she sought a comfortable spot to waylay her stomach in the cramped space. It was the softness of her cheek that found it as she stirred; the trembling arm of the youkai lord.

"Are you all right?" Kagome asked worriedly into the darkness. "You're shaking."

"I do not feel well."

"Wha-what? Like throw up not well? Are you going to throw up on me?"

"No," he corrected in mild disgust at the humiliating content of her presumption. "I am merely tired."

"Oh," she realized with an audible sigh of relief. "Is it still from what happened earlier? From your wounds on the beach? You weren't completely healed?"

"What ails me is deeper than superficial injuries of the flesh," he remarked, reminded of the healing duties of priestesses by her rapt interest, "So do not concern yourself. Simple rest is the best and only remedy."

"Then you should rest."

"That is easier said than done."

"You can if you want," she offered nervously, the silk of her coat rustling while she slid as far as she could to the side of the narrow pit. "Now there's a little room. That is if you want it."

"There is less than you believe. I will be atop you regardless of how much you sidle."

"It's fine," the school girl admitted timidly, convincing herself while she attempted to convince him, "As long as your armor and swords don't hurt me. It's fine."

A long quiet passed uneventfully while the demon continued to hold himself above her, propped in place by his straining arm. She had begun to believe that he had silently refused her offer, the indignity of using her like a pillow being figuratively beneath him. Then the sound of metal softly scraping against the smooth floor met her ears as he lowered himself beside her. Falling to his left side, the unforgiving, jutting curve of his shoulder armor pushed him forward while he maneuvered for the least imposing position. Finally in blending swirls of silk, hair and fur, he blanketed her body as he had settled.

"Miko," he whispered into her ear, his head nestled on the floor and neatly in the gap above her shoulder.

"Ye-Yeah?"

"It would be preferable if you would relax. Your excited heartbeat is proving difficult to sleep through."

"Oh, sorry... Uh, I'll try."

"Good."

OOOOOOOOOO

Heavy, muffled voices found their way into the school girl's shadowy dreams of empty ocean waves, stirring her from her fitful slumber. Her rest had been a sleep of boredom, because as she swiftly discovered, there was little else to do in a peach pit while draped with an unconscious demon lord. The expected perennial darkness greeted her as she opened her eyes, but it was the unexpected sight amid the black that elicited the smile that graced her lips. Brilliant even though it was faint, a line of light followed the seam of the pit she had felt earlier.

"Sesshoumaru-sama," Kagome called out to the demon when the offer of escape cemented itself in her mind. His shallow breaths of sleep persisted through her attempts to wake him, furrowing her brow. "He taught me a lesson on how to be stronger for a reason," she reminded herself, bolstering her confidence. "Imagine my success, right?"

Slipping carefully out from beneath the tai youkai and the clawed hand that had come to rest securely at her waist, the school girl freed her legs from under his weight. Blushing slightly, her hands felt for the tails of the coat that clothed her nudity, gathering them protectively around her nether regions as she prepared to kick the lid of their prison.

"I imagine that the top will go flying and hit that old lady in the face for jostling us around so much," Kagome spoke her annoyance in a hushed voice while she bent her legs above her stomach. Then with a hard blow, the bottoms of her bare feet struck the ceiling with a loud crack. No splashes of dazzling sparks radiated from her kick and to her relative disappointment it did not soar up in the air to hit the unsuspecting elderly woman she had hoped was nearby. Instead it brightened the glowing fissure of the seam, promising her with a little more effort a refuge from the darkness. After several more well placed strikes, the lid of the pit slid away, falling unmomentously onto the table outside.

"I did it," she gasped breathlessly, a grin spreading across her cheeks. "I did it!" Her glee was brief as a shadow fell over her and the enormous, silhouetted head of a wrinkled old man appeared at her cheers.

"There's a little boy inside of this peach, woman," the man called out, his voice loud and raspy with age. "Where did you get it again?"

"It was in the river, dear," a rough and easygoing feminine voice answered from afar.

"I suppose that makes some sense," he remarked thoughtfully, his brow creasing as he sorted through the mystery out loud. "If a peach is floating by in the river as opposed to being in a tree, it might have to have something confounding like a little boy inside of it."

"If you say so, dear."

"Well, little man," the old husband asked of the tiny child staring up at him with his mouth agape. "Do you have a name or is it just peach boy?"

"Uh," Kagome managed inelegantly in her lingering shock.

"I think I like Momotaro better than Uh."

"It is not much more imaginative, dear," the old woman remarked.

"No one was asking you. I'm having a moment with the son you finally bore me and you're interrupting us."

"My mistake, dear," the woman replied as she came into view behind her husband. Dark and warm, her gaze fell to the child. "Are you hungry, young man? We have some rice for your supper if you are."

"Go away, you old bat!"

"I'm sorry," she apologized sweetly, gently kissing the irritated man atop his bald head before disappearing from the school girl's sight. "Please forgive me and continue with your deep and meaningful conversation with the boy."

"Your dowry was far too small to compensate for all of your meddling," he grumbled under his breath. Then his scowl lightened into pride as he looked down again on the child. "Now, what's your name, my son?"

"My name..." Kagome answered quietly. "My name is Momotaro."


	43. Knots

Chapter Forty-Three: Knots

"Ha, I knew it," the old man announced proudly, flashing a sparingly toothed grin at his unimpressed wife stooped out of sight. "His name is Momotaro."

"Of course it is, dear," she remarked disinterestedly amid the sounds of her bustle as she busily checked on the food. Bubbling eagerly while it cooked, it hung in an iron pot over the popping fire nestled in the blackened hearth. "It is always Momotaro. Who else would it be after so many years?"

"Well, it wouldn't do you any harm to be surprised once in a while, wife," he grumbled cantankerously, eyeing her answering charming smile with a marked scowl. "The boy just popped out of a peach pit. How often is that supposed to happen?"

"Only once."

"Then pretend as if it's been only once," he growled, crossing his lean, age spotted arms against his chest in his obstinacy. "We only have one role to perform here. It would be nice if you would do it right."

"Yes, yes," she acquiesced sweetly, returning to his side with a black lacquered bowl brimming with rice and accented with a few pickled vegetables. "My child, here is your dinner should you be hungry."

"Wait," Kagome said abruptly, her momentary sheepishness besieged by her innate curiosity, "You both know this story is repeating over and over? You both know about the poem and the scroll?"

"Naturally, child," the elderly woman replied, "We have been aware of it for many years now."

"So, then are you prisoners of Susanou? Like Shiro-sama and The Dragon King?"

"No, no, we are not anything so fancy as former enemies or disparagers of the great god of storms. We are only conjurations of the scroll he created and nothing more."

"Oh."

"Do not be disappointed, young man," she reassured with a gentle smile, setting the dish of rice on the table. "I am sure there is a prisoner within this tale and an inquisitive soul like yourself will indeed find out whoever it may be. Until then have some supper to give you strength for your long journey ahead."

"That's too much," the school girl objected while she carefully began to ease the rest of her body out from beneath the still slumbering demon lord. Biting her bottom lip anxiously as she slid away, her wary sight focused on his peaceful expression as he sank further into the dished pit. Finally free of her heavy and warm youkai blanket, Kagome unsteadily rose to her sharply tingling feet. While she was certain Sesshoumaru continued to sleep, the bitter barbs of her nerves painfully told her that her legs however had just awoken. Wincing in her discomfort, her eyes rose to the massive and inquisitive couple overhead, reminding her of the glaring frustrations she had once experienced as the tiny adventurer, Issunboshi. "I don't want to be ungrateful, but it would take me months to eat all of that. I would be honored and satisfied with one kernel. Two at the most."

"Child, this is less food than you believe."

"How do you mean? To you it is a small supper, but for someone as tiny as me, it's well, huge!"

"Do not debate it, young man. Simply step out of your pit and you shall see."

"All right, if you say so," Kagome whispered moodily, begrudgingly lured into prickling movement by the mystery in the old woman's request and her unrelenting sweetness. Minding the tails of her hapi coat with one hand, she gingerly stepped over the rim of the pit and onto what she had expected to be the worn smooth and rippled grains of the wooden table. In a shimmering flash of blue sparks, the school girl disappeared, enveloped by a swirling burst of light. The radiance grew as it sparkled and a moment later she emerged from its brilliant glitter, tumbling gracelessly in her restored height from the low table and onto the hard packed dirt floor. There she lay, coughing lightly on the dusty air that her impact had stirred up and indulging in the rare peace her passing daze had brought.

"He is indeed a son," the old man announced proudly with his checkered smile and a newly acquired pipe at his lip, nodding toward the boy his eyes saw and beneath the slightly unfurled folds of the now open coat.

"Eep!" Kagome squeaked, flushing hot in embarrassment as her hands scrambled for the garment and she quickly wrapped her burning humiliation in the cool silk.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of, lad," he chuckled at the fluster and then at the well-earned, hot glare swiftly leveled at him. "And there is nothing you have that hasn't been seen countless times in our company. At any rate, you should take pride in being a man. It's privilege to be born one, you know."

"I don't know about that," she huffed under her breath.

"I'm sorry, my boy. My ears are not what they once were. You were saying something?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Never mind," she quickly replied with a weak smile, nervously straightening and smoothing the undercoat she wore with her fingers. Inwardly, she was relieved that what remained of her modesty had in a strange way been preserved by the thin shroud of magic. However, that same veil would conceal little from the gaze of the eventually waking demon resting in the small, cleaved pit on the table. "I'm not one to shirk the obvious gift of being a boy, but would it be possible to have some clothes appropriate for more than just your company?"

"What?"

"I believe our son would like some more suitable attire, dear," the old woman spoke gently, her hand patting her husband affectionately on the shoulder before she approached their awkward child who had since risen cautiously from the dirt floor. "I think there might be a few relics about from when your father was still young and fit."

"Bah, woman," the elderly man objected coarsely, rubbing the rounded belly at his waist with one hand as the other cradled his pipe. "If you didn't like me softer, you wouldn't cook what you do."

OOOOOOOOOO

Dark and heavy were his dreams, cunningly dungeoning the demon's mind under the guise of restful sleep. They appeared as an insidious, purple fog to his dreaming eyes, entombing his body within its impenetrable vapor while its tendrils seeped into his chest. There they coiled in their menace, seizing his lungs of the air he could not breathe and straining his racing heart to pump the blood he did not have.

Despite the needling pain coursing through him, the tai youkai remained focused amid the exploits of the sinister smoke, unwilling to acknowledge it as anything more than an illusion. Ultimately, he knew this dream was only a figment of his caged mind and the indignity of cowering before a nightmare disturbed him more than the tortured memory it conjured. At least, he would have appreciated it if it were that simple.

He snarled through gritted teeth as a wet wave of agony washed over him. His arm firmly pinned within the vise of fog, Sesshoumaru found he was sincerely pleased that he could not give into the temptation of rending his chest apart as he had done before. Then his growling frustration paused as a strange thought slipped through the hazy plumes of his prison, lingering while he contemplated on the bloody stains he had awoken to on the beach not long ago. Here in the imaginings of his dreams and away from protective barriers that shielded his flesh, he wondered. If loosed from the binds of smoke, would he rip away his incorporeal body until only an empty husk of himself remained? In a disconcerting way, did he need his claws to achieve such a notion?

"The curse is what it is. Your anger will not change its fate. Your actions will not change its fate. There is nothing that will change its fate," a voice echoed, its warmth outweighing the sternness of the words. Through the glowing spots of white that dyed the youkai lord's vision, the vapor took shape. Harnessing the shadows born of the smoke and the light born from the pain reflected in his sight, a silhouetted image of a smirking great grand-sire emerged before him. Again it spoke, eliciting a scowl from the great grand-pup with every mirthful and yet serious syllable. "I feel no shame for the sacrifices I have made or the squandered gifts I have given away for there is true honor and pride in every action."

"Hn, it is not so simple. What I feel is not what I wish to."

"Matters of the heart and the soul can affect even the most disciplined of warriors, pup. A swordsman or an army is easy to fight. Your enemies are your enemies and he who is better with the blade or has the most luck on his side will win. Simple. A curse however, is a far more powerful thing, especially when shame is concerned. How insidious our minds can be, spoiling us without even drawing a sword."

"And your remedy?"

"Remember your pride and your honor. Remember what it truly means to give. If you do, then the curse will never claim you again."

"How I desire for it to be as effortless as you have said. I heeded your words once and felt the weight of shame lift, but what I have done now is more than gift an undeserving man a wooden mortar. This trial has struck far deeper."

"This rice is so good! It just melts in my mouth. Do you have any more pickled plums?"

"What?"

"Are those rice cakes for me too? Oh wait... those are for the journey, right? You both are the best imaginary parents ever."

A feathery halo of ivory light welcomed the golden hued sight of the waking demon lord. The warm radiance filtered through the soft pile of his pelt, its downy length wrapped comfortably around him during his former slumber and contentedly over his face to block the uninvited rays of the persistent sun.

"Hn," he grunted while he laboriously untangled the fur cocoon, its fond embrace subtly reminding him of the sinister coils of purple fog that had mired his dream. Slowly freeing his body, the tai youkai sighed lightly and wearily as the cause of his nightmare grew more apparent while he unraveled. Between his long pelt and the binding weight of his heavy armor, he had been inadvertently imprisoned by little more than himself. A scowl of disgust furrowed his brows and faintly frowned his lips at the obvious result.

Then with another sigh, he easily dismissed the torments exacted within his dreams as unfortunate consequences of his exhaustion, another cost of his momentary fatigue. Their suggested importances were soon lost as he purged them each from his mind until only a lingering knot remained. Unwilling to be forgotten, it tightened in his chest. It was a strange and foreign sensation to him, this tangle of dread. This snarl of doubt. Intrigued, the youkai was slow to notice the dark shadow that fell over him.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?" a loud, feminine and familiar voice called out to him. His tired gaze rose up, discovering the broad plane of the concerned miko's face. Silently, he noted it was much larger than what his memory recalled. "You're finally awake."

"Indeed," he remarked disinterestedly, also noting that her knack for acknowledging the mundane still remained the same and equally unimpressive.

"Wow, I think you look worse now than you did before you fell asleep."

"Further comments are not necessary or desired, miko," Sesshoumaru cautioned icily, his sharpened nails already sorting out the knots that plagued his disheveled hair.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that I thought you might like to know--"

"Enough."

"Right. Got it," Kagome acquiesced softly; her usual, indomitable enthusiasm tempered little by the unpleasant speck of demon slowly rising to his feet within the split fruit.

"It would seem that we still reside in the elderly couple's shack," he observed before leveling his gaze on the almond-like contours of the school girl's sepia eyes. "How did you remedy the matter of your size?"

"Well, it was really simple. I just stepped out of the pit."

"That is all?"

"Yeah."

"Very well."

"Wait," she yelled abruptly, however as her warning left her lips the sparkling flash of blue surrounded the tiny, youkai figure, his black boots having already met the smoothly sanded tabletop. The dazzling radiance pulsed and grew, its swelling, iridescent form resembling the tall demon in glittering silhouette. Then it dissipated in a burst of light, revealing him within and he landed gracefully before the miko on the uneven floor of the hovel.

"What was your warning?" he asked and then furrowed a brow in puzzlement at her ensuing scowl.

"It's not important. It seems like you can't have a rough landing, injured or not."

"Hn," he snorted, before his eyes drifted over her person and the foreign clothing that graced her figure. "You have found new attire."

"Yeah," she replied, brushing away any lingering dust that clung to the fitted, blue tunic before her fingers rose to adjust the tight mandarin collar curving around her neck. Her cotton robe ended with calf-length, beige pants and high upon her head, her ebony locks were gathered in a wavy ponytail. "I think I look more the part now. Oh, here's your undercoat before I forget. I'm sorry, but it might be a little dusty."

"So it would seem," the tai youkai replied, raising a brow as he accepted the proffered garment whose white hue did appear more mottled than he remembered.

"Ah, your first companion has arrived," the old woman interjected warmly, drawing the sights of the two travelers upon her, "And he is a fine, loyal, white dog to protect you and fight at your side. With his arrival, it is time for you to depart from our company, brave son."

"Don't I need to convince you to let me go?" Kagome asked in confusion avoiding the youkai lord's expression and the dissatisfaction it likely held at his role. "Don't I need to promise that I will return one day?"

"We may be only magic, be time has made us both ancient and wise, my boy," the old man replied, puffing wisps of gray smoke from his long pipe. "You will not return and any other theatrics have already been spoiled by your mother."

"Here are your cakes," the elderly wife offered after a sigh, placing a small, reed box in the school girl's hands. "Share them well and may you find all that you seek in your travels ahead, my dearest Momotaro."


	44. Mon-Ki and Fe-San

Chapter Forty-Four: Mon-Ki and Fe-San

Crowning the rich, cerulean sky, the brilliant orb of the hot, midday sun shone down, warming the easy sloping hills of the countryside with its penetrating radiance. The inescapable heat of summer accompanied the dazzling rays of light, thirstily drying the already parched air and earth of what remained of their paltry moisture. A plain ribbon of packed dirt cut across the sparsely treed grassland. Worn to dust at its edges by the hard wheels of the occasional, passing cart, the road seemed to be split at its center by crumbled earth and the determined sprouting of stunted grass.

Along the horizon where the path met the cloudless heavens, the dark silhouette of a figure appeared, its vague image fluctuating in the sizzling vapor rising from the ground. Slowly the person plodded down the barren road, the blue, beige and black of its definition becoming clearer with every, meandering stride. Her gender betrayed by the curve of her hip and her narrow waist, the young woman paused in her step. Pivoting lightly on her heel, she casually turned to face the way she had come as her sight settled upon the crest of the hill where the faintly rutted road she traveled disappeared from her sight. One of the once-white, rolled cuffs of her tunic rose to her glistening forehead while she patiently waited, wiping away the beaded sweat that loitered there and its wetness that dampened her bangs. Then down her cheeks she gently dragged the cotton fabric until it soothingly slipped under her collar to dry her neck.

With concern etching her face, Kagome's chapped lips parted and a name lingered on her tongue as she considered calling out for the missing companion for whom she waited. To her growing dismay, another moment passed emptily and her ill ease reached its pitch. But, before her sandaled feet could stir, a crown of long, silver hair appeared to waylay her fears.

"Sesshoumaru-sama," the school girl called out softly in relief as the silk and armor clad demon ambled over the rounded peak, his pace slow and careful. The amber of his vision drifted to her darker gaze at the sound of his name, the usual glitter of his irises dull even in the brilliance of the sunlight. She shifted uncomfortably under his hollow and empty expression as a labored stride and lusterless eyes were not alone in attesting to his wanting health. The striking paleness of his skin matching the white silk of his robes and the charcoal tinted bruising beneath his eyes all spoke volumes. A sharp pang of worry knitted her brow and pouted her lips.

"Yes?" he finally answered when his look her way seemed too subtle a reply.

"Oh," Kagome mumbled her surprise, her ruddy cheeks flushing now from both the sweltering heat and her mild embarrassment. She spun around and searched for an answer in the fluttering, golden grass of the rolling hills, spying her rescue not far along the easy winding trail. "There's some shade ahead," she added with a gentle smile of satisfaction and gestured to a wind-twisted tree and its scantily leafed boughs, "that is if you want to rest."

"Hn," he snorted and then continued his tired walk, passing the miko without a word. She watched on in silence, her brief contentment dissolving at his shuffling step and the ailment it spoke when his words would not. Nervously, she moistened and bit at the dry, torn flesh of her lip in her concern.

Under the merciless rays of the harsh sun and upon the endless coil of road, the travelers journeyed as the tale instructed, seeking their eventual comrades and hopefully finishing with the cool waters of the sea. And while Kagome found herself taking solace in that his need for respite along the way had been waning, the tai youkai had been more than simply exhausted. Since his emergence from the peach pit, there was something else that pooled beneath the surface of his aloof demeanor, an unseen injury that could not be healed with the ease of youki. Its thick mortar isolated the demon, constructing renewed walls of indifference and cementing deep moats of coldness. He was once more the secluded fortress she remembered best and the warmth and camaraderie that had grown between them had all but disappeared.

A strange, yet familiar sensation crept stealthily into her vision, stinging and blurring her sight as it slinked in nearly unnoticed. The school girl's fingers rose to find her tender eyes and with the soft heel of her hand she dried them of their dampness and eased their prickling pain with a gentle rub. Staring at the smeared remnants of tears that now stained her palm, she wondered at their nature. She wondered when Sesshoumaru had become more to her than the cruel, elitist brother of her closest friend. She wondered when their unspoken alliance to complete the poem had evolved into a deep friendship. Then a dull, barbed ache burrowed its spurs into her chest and for the first time she could remember since she had been swept into the eternal realm of the scroll, Kagome felt the disconcerting comfort of loneliness.

"Miko?" the baritone of the youkai lord beckoned coolly from beneath the dappled shadows of the warped tree. Blinking away the wetness and swallowing the salty liquid that built in her throat, the school girl confidently strolled toward him, denying the awkward shame she felt with each purposeful stride.

"Yes?" she answered smoothly, ignoring his raised brow and odd look at her reddened eyes.

"We have company."

At his casual remark, Kagome's tempted curiosity overwhelmed her discomfiting thoughts and she stepped nimbly past the demon now leaning comfortably against the rough, peeling bark of the tree trunk. Cradled in the gnarled curls of exposed roots, the soft lumps of fur and feathers greeted her sight. There were two animals that she could tell and in a scroll where no magic was without reason, the school girl had a good guess as to who they may be.

"The monkey and the pheasant?" she softly whispered the fruit of her logic after sorting out the happily dozing creatures before her.

A noncommittal nod in her direction was his answer and the miko slipped closer to get a better look. Masking its definition and confounding its appearance, the misshapen fowl's small head was hidden away, nestled contentedly under a tucked wing. Rich reds and greens dyed its colorful plumes, becoming more brilliant with the long shafts of its splendid tail. Resting its head against the downy side of the bird and with the brim of its broad, cone-shaped hat tipped over its face, the monkey slept sprawled upon its back beside it. Tan in color, the thick hair of his pelt covered his naked torso, only to be concealed at its waist by a small pair of burgundy, hakama pants. In his tiny and relaxed palm, a smoothly hewn stick lay with a long length of string trailing from its tip. The line from the makeshift fishing pole trickled down the steep bank into the shallow remnants of a creek bed. Lost among the cracked webs that carved the molded silt, the hook hung bare, dried of bait as the stream around it was dried of water.

The unexpected snap of a twig under her foot broke the barren silence with a harsh crack. Springing up from its peaceful slumber as if it had never been asleep, the little primate leapt to its feet excitedly and shoved the cap back from its brow.

"Wake up, Fe-San! Wake up!" the monkey exclaimed loudly with the fishing pole firmly gripped in both hands while it danced about barely able to contain its enthusiasm. "We finally caught one, wa-ah!"

"What?! What?!" the bird twittered fretfully at the abrupt awakening, its iridescent green head crowned with a similar coned hat quickly snaking out from beneath its wing at the jumbled cries of its friend. "Are we going to die?! Or are we already dead?! Please, let us already be dead!"

"We're not dead," the primate sighed its reply before casting a look back at the nervous fluster behind it, a few tufts of fur pressed against its pink brow by the woven cap. "We just caught a fish, wa-ah."

"A fish, Mon-Ki?" Fe-San asked, rising to its golden, taloned feet to join the monkey in its zeal. "We've never actually caught a fish. Reel it in! Reel it in!"

"I am! I am!" Mon-Ki shouted gleefully as it pulled the line in with its nimble fingers. The mottled thread bounced along the uneven earth with each yank until its barbed end landed in the eager hands of the monkey, the jagged metal relishing the puzzlement it swiftly found there.

"There's no fish."

"I can see that, wa-ah."

"Why did you say there was a fish when there is no fish?"

"I heard a sound and I thought it was a fish, wa-ah," the monkey explained touchily, turning the fruitless hook over in its disappointment.

"Wa-wait," the pheasant stuttered looking down from beneath the low brim of its hat. "You heard a sound?"

"Yeah."

"But, there's no fish."

"Yeah, I just said that, wa-ah."

"Then where did the sound come from?"

"Good morning," the warm voice of the school girl greeted cheerfully from her perch on the thick root above them. "I'm sorry I woke you both." With a quiet, hollow clatter, the thin pole fell to the ground at the creatures' feet as they gawked in abject horror at the pleasant smile of the figure above them. Then in a flurry of feathers and squawks, the panicky bird scrambled into flight, seeking the haven of tangled branches overhead and shamelessly leaving its ally at the mercy of the intruder below.

"Fe-San, you coward!" Mon-Ki accused angrily before leaping over a root at its back, welcoming the meager barrier the tree provided between itself and the motionless human looming ahead. "I thought we were friends, wa-ah."

"I will always remember your sacrifice, Mon-Ki."

"Damn it, Fe-San!"

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you," Kagome soothed sweetly, nearly unable to mask her amusement at their frantic antics. "My name is Momotaro."

"Momotaro?" the little primate repeated with a furrowed brow, leveling an intense, golden stare on her. "The Momotaro?"

"I think so," she replied with a soft, self-conscious laugh which ended in an abrupt squeak as the agile monkey unexpectedly scaled the tree trunk in a flash, settling so close that the warmth of its breath joined the coldness of its critical glare.

"Are you indeed the great boy general who is journeying to the evils of Oni Island to defeat the cruel Ogre Warlord who has been plaguing the emperor's lands with his horde of demonic followers, wa-ah?"

"Ye-Yes?"

"Where is my gift?"

"Your gift?"

"Yes, my gift, wa-ah," Mon-Ki replied with a sigh before pointing to the cloth satchel that hung at her waist.

"Oh, your gift," the school girl blurted out in her realization and fumbled through the small bag. "I completely forgot." A moment later her hand emerged and in it the bundle of carefully wrapped rice cakes. Delicately, she retrieved one and halved it as she remembered from the tale. "Half of one, right?"

"Yes."

"Here you go," she offered with a gentle smile, setting the split bun in the monkey's outstretched hand before enjoying her portion. With cheeks puffing as it munched, it happily ate the generously given meal and Kagome grinned while she watched the expressive animal's enjoyment. Meticulously licking every gooey bit from its fingers, the primate finished with the smack of its lips. "Are you satisfied?"

"Almost, wa-ah. Give me half of the remaining rice cake."

"You need that one too?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"Mon-Ki, what are you doing?" the pheasant questioned shrilly from its perch high above, the fluttering of leaves cascading below as it shifted nervously.

"Just give me part of the cake, Momotaro-sama," the monkey demanded kindly with a smile, unfazed by the anxious fluster overhead.

"I don't know if I should," the school girl answered doubtfully while she carefully tore the final cake. "Doesn't this piece go to--"

"Thank you, wa-ah," Mon-Ki replied as it quickly snatched the broken cake from her grip and bounced away from the tree in its glee.

"Mon-Ki, come back here!" Fe-San screeched and burst from the branches as it glided after its cunning friend.

"You don't deserve it, wa-ah! You abandoned me!" the primate yelled as it scampered, finishing the bun in a single swallow. Then in a fit of squawks and squeals, the two collided, becoming a snarled flurry of fur and feathers. Nearly at a loss for words, Kagome hesitantly approached the wild and strangely comedic torrent of animals rolling about on the ground.

"It's okay, Fe-San," she said calmly, holding out the last of the cake and her share, hoping to appease the disappointed bird's bruised pride. "You can have mine."

"Really, Momotaro-sama?" the pheasant asked hopefully from beneath its cap as it untangled itself from the exhausted and still gloating monkey. "You'll let me have your piece?"

"Of course, but you both have to stop fighting."

"We promise," they agreed in unison and the school girl leaned in, holding the bit of rice cake out to the eager fowl's beak. After several deft and gentle pecks, the bun was gone to Fe-San's belated satisfaction.

"Are any of you prisoners here?" she asked after a giggle when Mon-Ki scooted next to its friend and began to groom the still ruffled feathers as an apology. "You know, trapped here by the god, Susanou?"

"Susanou?" the monkey replied quizzically, catching the bird's equally befuddled expression.

"I guess not."

"He would know who," Fe-San spoke up suddenly as a thought snared in its mind, "If anyone knows, he would."

"Who?"

"The monk."


	45. The Wandering Monk

Chapter Forty-Five: The Wandering Monk

Kagome sighed her boredom from beneath the speckled shade of the sparsely leafed tree. With her chin resting casually on her palm, she sat patiently on one of the few rocks settled out of reach of the unrelenting heat and brilliance of the summer sun. Rough and uneven to her backside, she shifted uncomfortably on its hard surface, lamenting her light pants and the comfort of the soft dirt at her feet that the unsoiled fabric denied her. Now reflecting silently on the thin layer of loose earth lying before her sight, she felt her tedium break.

With its welcomed end, the school girl reached down for a branching stick that loitered at her heel and picked it clean of its dried and crinkled leaves. She then held it tentatively over the smooth, earthen canvas while she thought on what to draw. No great designs came to mind so she set the pointed stick to carve shallow grooves in the fine dust, contented to create random lines and doodles. Once filled, she cleansed the dirt of her art and rough talent with a careful sweep or two of her sandal. The pictures disappeared and the tool of her diversion easily moved to craft something new.

At first Kagome drew what she saw; the gentle bends of the waving grass buffeted by the cool breeze and the jagged angles of the occasional, wind-twisted tree that rose above the amber blades. Catching her eye next were the soft, feathered curves of the napping pheasant and then the lanky lines of the sprawled monkey that leaned against its friend. Finally, only one subject had yet to be illustrated and one that seemed to encompass every single bend, angle, curve and line she had already drawn. However, the tai youkai's dour expression while he leaned against the tree paused her hand. Considering that his unwavering scowl was not intended for her, but for the snoozing animals nestled contentedly at his boots, she found that she was not eager to attract the focus of his current displeasure.

The animals' fascination with the youkai lord had been one of wonderment on her part. Soon after she had soothed Fe-San, the two companions discovered the lethargic inu demon resting beside the tree and their unrelenting fondness for him since had been nothing short of comical, if not occasionally terrifying. Dwelling on their scorned affection, the school girl's next idea emerged in her mind and a devious smile grew on her lips as she set to work on her subsequent piece of art.

"Is that us and Do-Gu?" Fe-San chirped excitedly as it peered around her leg, startling Kagome from her self-indulging amusement.

"No, no," she denied abruptly while hastily brushing away the crude drawing of a benignly dozing Sesshoumaru littered with the pleasant company of the happily sleeping bird and primate.

"Why did you erase it? It was cute," the pheasant complained petulantly, peering up from beneath the low brim of its hat at the flushed cheeks of its leader. Met with her none to subtle hand gestures suggesting silence, the oblivious fowl persisted in its demands. "Draw it again."

"All right, I will. I'll draw it later," the school girl acquiesced with a hushed voice and an uneasy laugh as she felt the familiar golden glare of the demon boring into the back of her head. Satisfied with the answer she gave, the bird's squawks of protest quelled for a moment, but only a moment.

"When later?"

"Fe-San, can I ask you something?" Kagome quickly interjected, interrupting the chatty animal when she realized only a change in subject would do as a remedy.

"Oh," it clucked, slightly perplexed. "What would you like to know, Momotaro-sama?"

"Well," she thought aloud, her finger steadily tapping her lip as a bevy of questions brimmed, "I'd like to know who this monk is. Where did he come from? Is he a prisoner or an element of magic? What does he look like? Does he really know everything about the scroll?"

"Uh..."

"I'm sorry. How about just one then," she giggled at its beleaguered expression, slipping her hand down to soothingly scratch it about its neck and shaded head. "Do you know when he'll get here?"

"Uh..."

"You don't know when he'll get here?"

"Soon?"

"Never mind," the school girl yielded with a long sigh, reluctantly resigning her curiosity to the mystery. To her belated satisfaction though, it was a mystery that would not leave her waiting much longer.

Fresh from its success in touching Sesshoumaru's pelt, the recently wakened Mon-Ki sat safely a few tree roots away, crouched in thought as it pondered what to do next in its resolute quest to lovingly groom the taciturn demon. With a warning bark escaping its lips as it perked up to stand on its long, gangly legs hidden within red, billowing pants, the primate's amber stare fell to the road already traveled. The youkai lord's attention swiftly followed suit as he too heard the strange noise. Stark against the soft rustle of grass rippled by the breeze, the rhythmic grind and squeak slowly ascended in the air, finding Kagome's ears at last.

"Is that him?" she asked the jittery bird darting away from her side, twittering excitedly while it ran with its long plumes trailing behind it.

"He's here! He's here!" the monkey announced elatedly as it too bound towards the worn path, leaping and twisting gleefully as it went. The two animals settled patiently in the center of the trail, shivering in their enthusiasm and whispering it quietly to each other. 

Cresting the hill like the slow ascent of the sun in the sky, the broad, woven cone of a hat rose above the sloping road followed by the small, hunched shoulders of a slender figure. Drawn steadily by a stout, bay pony, the man sat perched upon the crumbling bench of his rickety wagon. Plastered in red paint to conceal the erosion that time had exacted upon it, the cart rattled shakily over the dirt trail, hauling a brilliant rainbow of fresh fruit in its hold.

"I know him," the school girl murmured under her breath with a furrowed brow as the wagon slowed to a stop before the giddy fanfare of squeals and twitters. The man pushed back the brim of his hat, revealing his ancient and wrinkled face. Sunken eyes and gaunt cheeks defining him, the old monk smiled his toothless grin at the animated antics of the animals below him and the flurry of elated commotion they exuded. With one climbing the cart with ease as the other took to climbing the air with an equal lack of effort, the monkey and pheasant joined the man upon his seat. "I know I've seen him before."

Kagome stepped out into the glare of the sunlight from the cool shade of the tree, approaching the touching reunion with a stilted stride as she poured over her memories, searching for this diminutive man among their many pages. The monk looked down at her from astride his wagon, smiling gently at her twisted expression while she thought.

"Are you perplexed by presence?" he spoke up in a friendly, raspy voice abraded by age and softened by time.

"You seem familiar. Have we met before?"

"We have, but for only brief, forgettable moments and sadly, several tales ago."

"I'm sorry that I don't remember, but do you think you could tell me when?"

"I will give you a hint. We met when you were but a tiny warrior searching for a ride and when you were a very lovely old woman searching for a direction," he replied cryptically, his easy smile reflecting his unwavering patience as her puzzlement doubled.

"I just don't--"

"Hmm, then I suppose it is rude of me not to ask if you ever found the tall, white-haired man you were looking for so many stories ago? I imagined that it was Shiro-sama or one of his kin that you sought, so I hope my directions were enough."

"Wait... You?! You're elderly man from the entrance of the village, aren't you?" the school girl finally guessed, her voice incredulous as she suddenly remembered the nearly unmemorable moment from so early in the third tale. Taken by her revelation, he chuckled at her disjointed words until his humor became hacking coughs. She closed the distance between them in her worry, but a casual wave of his gnarled hand kept her from climbing up to his place to act on her concern. Soon his discomfort passed and the glimmer of his empty eyes returned.

"Is that all you can recall?"

"Issunboshi," the tai youkai answered coolly from his shadowed spot, subtly nodding to the mountains of produce piled behind the monk, "Your cart is what delivered us to the steps of the palace."

"Indeed," the old man replied, his gaze meeting the tired sight of the demon still hidden under the boughs of the crooked tree. "Your memories serve you better, so it would seem."

"That's Do-Gu," Mon-Ki explained quietly, standing tall to reach the monk's ear as it regaled him in an excited whisper. "He's finally arrived."

"Is that so? With a dog, a monkey, a pheasant and a boy general to lead them, I believe this war party is complete. All that is left is the war."

"I guess," Kagome agreed in near silence, her thoughts embroiled with the daunting battle ahead and more pointedly with the lingering, hidden wounds that weighted the steps of the youkai warrior at her back. In her experience, ogres had never been weak enemies and a fortress filled with their kind was nearly overwhelming. What would she do if Sesshoumaru could not fight? Could she win without him?

"Well, get on."

"What?"

"I'm heading your way, Momotaro-sama and it would be ill of me to leave such gallant heroes to travel by foot and claw on this road as harsh as the sun it is under."

"You'll give us a ride?"

"Of course."

"I'm grateful," she thanked him before casting an unseeing glance at the armor-clad silhouette conspicuously unmoved by the old man's offer. "But, I'm not sure if we all want to."

"I see," he replied with a casual nod and raised his attention to the distant and detached tai youkai. Catching the demon's golden stare again with his brown one, the monk eyed him carefully. Sesshoumaru met the unbidden examination with a furrowed brow which only deepened when a strange smirk grew on the old man's thin lips.

"I could try and talk to him. Maybe if I--"

"There is no need," he interrupted her, looking upon the school girl kindly as he spoke. "His pride is not greater than his prudence. He will join us, because illness makes paupers of us all and even great demon lords are no different." He looked on the inu youkai one final time. "There is room for you to rest among the fruit as we travel, my lord. And if that is not enough to tempt you then I will also tell you that you shall lose no respect for it as you are not the first of your clan to be in such a way and neither shall you be the last."

"I'm not sure if that was a good idea," the school girl cautioned in a hushed voice, grimacing at the bluntness of his words.

"There is no need for worry." No sooner had he spoken that she heard the soft rustle of silk and the slow, shuffled gait of the demon as he ambled by. Snorting his last vestige of defiance away as a reminder that his compliance was merely an illusion, Sesshoumaru approached the broad panels of the cart and touched them lightly with his hand, carefully testing their strength with a telling shake. Satisfied, he gripped one firmly, using it to steady himself while he swung up and over the side of the wagon to land lightly within the fruit-full bed. Leveling the produce landscape of a few of its mountains and lining what remained with his pelt, the tai youkai finally settled down to relax and with it the much needed rest it afforded him. Another smirk grew on the old man's lips at the sight veiled to him by magic and then he found Kagome again. "Are you ready, Momotaro-sama?"

"Oh, yeah," she murmured softly, glancing hesitantly at the rear of the cart nearly brimming with fur, silk and fruit. A frown pursed her lips. There seemed to be less room than within the peach pit and it was doubtlessly less hospitable for other more mysterious reasons.

"You can ride with me," the monk added gently to reassure her of her obvious awkwardness. "Mind the steps."

"Thank you," she smiled and then quickly hoisted herself up the splintered and loose boards that served as a ladder for the front of the wagon. Anxiously, she found her place on the narrow seat, taking as little room from the old man as she could. Her earnestness tickled him and after chuckling away his pleasure, the monk touched his patient horse with the whip and yipped a command.

With a rough and rumbling start, the produce cart bumped down the uneven road. However, it soon found the soft sand of the dual grooves that marked the rutted way, smoothing the ride to an easy, swaying comfort. Kagome spied back at the usually dangerous cargo to find it already slumbering. Exhausted from the trek, sleep had overcome the demon lord swiftly and so had the animal comrades he had kept at bay earlier. Nestled within swirls of crimson and white silk, Mon-Ki and Fe-San had besieged him to lay about his clothing in lounging contentment. The school girl snickered at the sweet scene before her, never quite believing what her innocent doodle in the dust had foretold.

"You seem to be in better spirits," the old man remarked, casting a pleasant look in her direction. "Momotaro is not meant to be timid."

"Timid?" she nearly laughed at his term, the attribute sounding so foreign to her ears. "I don't think anyone has ever accused me of being that." 

"If you are not timid, then what are you?"

"To be honest, I don't know what I feel right now. I've never felt this way before. It's so confusing. Maybe I'm just unsure and maybe I'm just a little scared for him. And for myself."

"You need not worry for him or for yourself. The magic of the scroll will not harm you, be it ogre or otherwise."

"I suppose you're right," Kagome agreed, flashing a weak smile at his well-meaning comfort. "After all, you're an illusion from the scroll, so you would know best." With her remark, a sudden and hoarse laugh erupted from the hunched monk, eliciting her wide-eyed concern that would do nothing to quell it.

"I am no illusion, Momotaro-sama," he wheezed between dying chuckles. "I am not made of magic."

"So, you're a prisoner of Susanou's?"

"In a way, I suppose, but not how you suspect."

"Then who are you?"

"I am the monk who found the scroll hundreds of years ago and who has since paid the price for the betrayal and lust of my comrade at the hands of Oto-hime."

"Oto-hime?"

"You do not know of her?"

"No..."

"Interesting. Then tell me, how much has Do-Gu told you of the Box of Time and of the shimmering palace deep beneath the ocean waves?"


	46. Truth

Chapter Forty-Six: Truth

"How much has he told me?" Kagome spoke softly and then furtively spied over her shoulder at the relaxed rocking of a silver-crowned head. Beyond that reassuring sight, the only conscious stirring that caught her eye was that of Mon-Ki. Leaving his bed of meticulously gathered silk, the yawning primate curled up on the deep pile of the tai youkai's plush pelt. In a drowsy haze, his nimble fingers absently sought the soft, ivory tufts and he sorted through them, searching for anything edible as he groomed. Certain now that the demon undeniably slept, the school girl returned her attention to the hunched man at her side. "He hasn't told me anything, really. Well, at least nothing of any importance."

"Hmm," the monk thought aloud in a murmur before his dark sight looked up to find her troubled expression. "Then what do you remember?"

"Not much, to be honest. I remember standing on the beach holding his clothes and his weapons. And then he left to ride the turtle as it swam out to sea. I couldn't see him for all of it, but he said he was going to come back for me. That he was going to return when he received the gift from Oto-Hime."

"And then?"

"Emptiness," she answered surely, furrowing her brow at the intangible feeling that sunk in her chest. Under its nearly unbearable throbbing, her delicate hand felt for the worn fibers of her tunic, soothingly rubbing away the dull pain that swelled around her heart. Accompanying the ache, a thick lump grew in her throat as her sight blurred with uninvited tears. But, she continued, swallowing down her curious fear and wiping away her inexplicable sorrow. "I only remember a cold and dark emptiness. Almost as if I was falling forever in a deep well with no end. It's hard to explain. I don't even understand it."

"I see."

"There was something else that shared the emptiness. It was a quiet noise that I've also heard in my dreams, but even there it was faint. In the darkness, I heard the rush of waves crashing. When I think about it, it feels as if they were haunting me. Not in a frightening way, because even now I feel strangely comforted by the memory of their sounds. They were like a lullaby that ices your blood as it rocks you to sleep."

"Hmm."

"My next memories are from when I awoke on the island and I found him covered in blood," she added, closing her sepia eyes to reluctantly think on the beach. There her vision loitered on the grisly, red-stained sand and the lifeless youkai lord surrounded by it. "I-I thought he was dead. The slashes were so deep. It was almost like he had tried to claw out his own heart. Never again. Never again, do I want to see something like that. 

After a while, he woke up and his youki healed the wounds. Since then, he hasn't told me a thing about what happened. No matter how I ask, he deflects or answers me with silence. To make it worse, every time he falls asleep, when he wakes up, he's still injured and speaks to me even less than before. I'm afraid that when he wakes up this time, he won't ever say another word to me." Her eyes fluttered open and she stared imploringly at the old man. "I don't know what to do and I don't know why any of this is happening."

"Take heart, Momotaro-sama," he replied knowingly. "In a way, your most difficult trial ended on that beach and his has only begun."

"Then you know what went on. You know what he did and what was done to him."

"Yes and no."

"How can it be yes and no?" she demanded in her confusion at the cryptic reply. "You mentioned Oto-Hime and the castle beneath the waves. Please, tell me what happened to Sesshoumaru-sama."

"I cannot."

"What? Why?!"

"It is not my place to say."

"How can you do this to me? You lure me by asking me what I know and then act as if you're going to enlighten me about what I don't!" Kagome raged tearfully, her voice cracking beneath the burden of her overwhelming frustration and stripped emotions. "You're one of the monks who found the scrolls. You can travel between the fairytales like us. You know what's going on, so why can't you just tell me?"

"I am not omnipotent within this realm, my lord," he answered soothingly, touching her wrist gently to calm her. "In this prison, I can only travel where there are roads. And there are none in the story of Urashima Taro. So, I did not witness what your companion did beneath the ocean depths. Nonetheless, if I did see it, I would refuse to speak it for it is not my tale to divulge, even at the mercy of my deepest compassion."

"Then why tell me anything? Why ask the questions? Why make it worse, if you're not going to help make it better?"

"It's simple. Even though, his story may not be mine to tell, I do have one that you may wish to hear. And perhaps in its profession, you will find the answers you seek, Momotaro-sama."

"What story?"

"My own."

The squeaking of the rolling cart and gentle sniffles replaced words as the school girl paused for the silence of her thoughts. Her reddened sight lingered on the crooked monk who waited unwearyingly for her reply. So many years had passed for him within the confines of the scroll that patience had become his favorite diversion to pass the time. 

"I would be honored," she whispered finally, her voice rough from the briny liquid that trickled in the back of her throat. He smiled contentedly, quietly and guiltily relishing the rare opportunity to speak of his difficult and endless journey.

"Fraught with anguish and longing, my tale has been an arduous one to live, my lord," he began wistfully, quelling his own sorrow that bubbled into his already gravelly voice. "Many, many years ago, I was once a young, but revered monk who served our great empire in the dawn of its time. As one of several select charges, it was my duty to care for our nation's most prized literature and it was one that I tirelessly took pride in. Mending crumbling paper and tending to fading ink was a daily and welcomed ritual. That is until one morning when a dawn arrived that would forever bind me to the lines of prose that I had dedicated my life to preserve.

Quiet as if in whisper, a dulcet voice sung my name in the silence while I dusted the shelves within one of the grander pagodas of the royal library. Enraptured by its melodious lure, I searched through the room for the beauty that beckoned as only a true goddess could bear a song of such elegance.

However, no woman awaited my efforts and my desperate pursuit ended in a seldom touched corner of the large room. There I was greeted by the powdery decay of forgotten relics, all seemingly beyond repair. Disappointed and saddened by what I found, I turned away until the smoothness of unspoiled skin caught my learned eye. Parting away the disintegrating vestiges of history lost to time, I picked up a pair of scrolls that were unmarred by any touch of rot.

Tickling my fingers, I could feel the flow of divine magic rippling beneath the fine grain of parchment. With this splendid power, I believed that who had ensnared me to its presence could be none other than the great sun goddess herself, Amaterasu. Excited by my discovery, I sought out a fellow monk. Handing him one of the scrolls so that he could examine its godly magnificence, my curiosity over its extraordinary nature claimed my attention next. I did not realize my words of incantation until it was too late and as I ignorantly uttered the final verse of poem, our fates were sealed."

"I understand that all too well," Kagome replied soberly, thinking on her rather similar misfortune in reading aloud what shouldn't necessarily be read.

"As you perhaps do," the old man remarked with a hoarse, but mirthful chuckle. "And you likely will be able to recall what occurred next. We share like fates within this realm, you and I. We both awoke in the room dedicated to the sun goddess as our allies arose in the room belonging to Tsukuyomi, the god of the moon. And like you and your comrade, my friend and I unlocked the steps leading to the next story of that eight-tiered pagoda which stands alone amid a churning, black sea. Together, we traveled through the fairytales, wrestling with woodland animals and protecting princesses from the cruel intentions of wicked bandits. And perhaps like you both, we did not understand the intent behind its creation. Not until we met Shiro-sama.

"Shiro-sama," she murmured, considering the great tai youkai who fathered Sesshoumaru and Inuyasha's family, the appropriately named, Clan of Shiro.

"The story of The Old Man Who Made Withered Trees Bloom is not an uncommon tale. Nevertheless, the truth behind its telling was even a mystery to us educated men until the proud dog was felled by the jealous neighbor and the silver-haired demon of its origin appeared in the flesh before us."

"There isn't a better description for him than that," she softly giggled with a growing blush, remembering the older lord's tendency for nudity.

"Indeed," he sighed halfheartedly, catching her reference easily. "With him, we learned who crafted the scroll and for what purpose it was meant for. To heartlessly imprison for an eternity, the evil god of storms, Susanou trapped those who angered him from his brief time exiled to the earthly plane. After vowing to destroy this unnatural artifact of ill-intent once our freedom was gained, Shiro-sama pleaded with us to instead deliver it to the hands of his clan. We agreed for we were not certain of what fate would befall those unjustly detained within its magic. If we had not sworn an oath of unbreakable honor to the noble youkai lord, the scroll would have surely been burned for the next fairytale and the terrible evil it held.

"The Dragon King."

"Never had I experienced such horrible and unfathomable wickedness as I did when I met what remained of the slain Yamata-no-Orochi. A frightening creature and yet to find him brought to his knees for love, even if it was love for an illusion. I could not help, but to pity him even at the risk of my faith for the righteous gods he had once terrorized.

However, despite my sympathy for his recurring plight, my weak hands which have never held a weapon were never more cruelly murderous. I failed the king in the battle against The Centipede and before my eyes I witnessed the enormous monster ravage all that he held dear. The dragon fought valiantly against it after my defeat, but no harm befell the protected fiend at his desperate efforts. In the waking dawn, he stood in the rubble of his broken palace. A blood-soaked scrap of kimono in hand, I could hear him quietly plead for the deadening respite of sleep. When the fairytale began anew the following day, I did not fail him again."

"He wouldn't want you to do that."

"What, my lord?"

"He wouldn't want you to pity him."

"I suppose he is too proud for condolences. He has found in imprisonment what he had lost at the cowardly hand of Susanou. I would doubt that the god had intended for the serpent to find peace in eternal torment, but I would not disbelieve that his intentions were reached with Oto-Hime in the Tale of Urashima Taro. 

Until now, all I have told is not a mystery to your ears, while what remains is very much so. Are you prepared to hear what lies beyond your knowing?"

The unremarkable song of the rumbling wagon permeated the air again in their renewed silence. Closing her eyes, Kagome considered what lay next in the old monk's story. In it was the key to her past and her heart raced at the thought of its telling. After swallowing down a few deep breaths to subdue the muscle's hurried beating, she returned her sight to the elderly man and nodded.

"Very well," he answered solemnly, "My companion and I arrived next on the deserted shore of an island surrounded by a vast ocean. As you surely remember from your own journeying, we soon discovered a stranded turtle in need of rescue upon its sands. Once it was righted, only he was permitted to voyage astride the animal to the palace deep beneath the sea. I remained on the beach to await his return, an arrival I would not live to see."

"You died? But, the barrier of the scroll--"

"The magic of the scroll protects the faithfulness of the stories it tells," he interrupted swiftly. "Only Issunboshi could defeat the bandit and save the princess, just as only the elderly man could carve the mortar in honor of the slain Shiro. Injuries fall beneath its power to prevent, but old age is beyond its touch."

"But, you said you were a young man when you found the scrolls."

"I was, but without a doubt you should know what happened to those residing above the surface of the ocean in that particular fairytale. What three days away had meant to the mortal Urashima Taro when he returned from the magnificence of the Dragon King of the Sea's home and the company of his betrothed, Oto-Hime."

"Three hundred years," the school girl murmured the answer, scarcely breathing the words as her face paled of color. "You were on the beach for three hundred years?"

"My body was and only likely dust on the breeze when my companion was finally released from Oto-Hime's allure. With no decision to make, The Box of Time was unnecessary with my passing hundreds of years earlier. I imagine he was only gifted with the Water Seal that would unlock the steps to the tale we traverse now."

"I don't understand. You're dead, but still in the scroll?"

"It is a prison, Momotaro-sama. Those who cannot finish their roles are doomed to remain within its magic. Despite my unkind fate, I am pleased that my fellow monk was able to escape a similar destiny."

"How could he when your role should have been as Momotaro?"

"Without my presence, my tasks fell to him. The magic then compensated for missing characters with the illusions it had been using for hundreds of years prior to our arrival."

"If we share the same roles, you and I," she began hesitantly, her voice choking at the heavy question that splintered her tongue. It was the one that inevitably needed an answer, no matter how much she feared it would reveal. She needed light in the darkness of her dreams and hope in the emptiness of her memories. "Was I left behind on that beach like you? For years and years?"

"How long you waited is a mystery, my lord. However, unlike me, you live when I perished to time. Oto-Hime is not an easy mistress to persuade for no one experiences loneliness as deeply as she does. You were fortunate that Do-Gu escaped her charm in time to entertain the choice that only The Box of Time affords."

"The choice? What choice did he make?"

"Hmm," the monk smirked at her somber expression, "He chose you. Whatever years of inexorable solitude that you endured, he absolved you of them. He cleansed your spirit by gifting you his unspent time and accepting onto himself your aged years."

"I-I don't know if I can... I mean, why would he--?"

"His reasons are his own," he replied wisely. "I cannot speak for that which I do not know. Nonetheless, I do know that your most recent predecessor's companion did it for love. He nearly died sacrificing his years to spare her of the passed lifetime of pain before death greeted her in those final moments of life."

"Is he going to die?" the school girl asked worriedly, spying back at the slumbering tai youkai, tempted to feel for his breaths at the severity of the old man's words.

"No, this Do-Gu is no longer wounded by the hand of time, Momotaro-sama. What weights his steps and chains his body is beyond the power of the scroll."

"I don't understand. If he's not injured from his sacrifice, then why is he hurt?"

"He is from the Clan of Shiro and that is all that must be spoken for no others understand as intimately what it truly means to give a gift."

"Wait, I need more than another cryptic explanation."

"Hmm," the old man murmured, perking up in his seat as he ignored her demand. The heat of the summer day seemed to lessen with his distraction as a cool breeze blew over the waving, amber blades of the broad fields. "Can you hear it, my lord?"

"What?"

"The ocean."


	47. Longing

Chapter Forty-Seven: Longing

Marbled with the muffled rumble of crashing waves, the lazy calls of distant seagulls drifted on the cool breeze. Their echoing cries heralded the creaking wagon's arrival as it trudged up the final, grassy hillside. An abrupt cliff overlooking a small cove greeted the dusty travelers, the cool shimmer of brilliant, cobalt waters reflecting in their tired sight. The way familiar to its hooves, the unaided, burly pony turned to trace the narrow trail etched into the face of the crumbling precipice. Spellbound by the cresting ribbons of waves and their lacy trails of foam, Kagome's sepia gaze was lost to the still strangely familiar ocean.

"I never tire of it," the monk remarked, his eyes seemingly hypnotized like hers.

"Huh," she murmured softly, barely hearing his words.

"The sea and the thunder of its surf meeting the sand. I believe that I will never tire of it as it always soothes my heart and reminds me of the home I lost."

"Your home? Did you live near the port when you worked in the libraries?"

"Alas, no. The years have been too plenty and now I remember nothing of my life before the scroll. My home was that lonely island. Even as it pierced me with its solitude, I loved it all the same. There is a comfort that comes with all that is familiar and it indeed became so after such a length of time."

"But, your story. You told me about how you were trapped by the magic. About meeting Shiro-sama for the first time and failing the Dragon King? You don't remember any of that?"

"I was a caretaker of the past, my lord," he reminded her with a gentle smile. "What would be said of a librarian who did not inscribe their own history? Who did not repeat their own tale so that it would not be lost to the ages?"

"Is that why you told me? So that it wouldn't be forgotten?"

"Perhaps," he replied thoughtfully. "Fairy tales live on through their telling. Without anyone to speak them, they would fade like forgotten prose and crumble away like neglected parchment."

"I suppose you're right," the school girl agreed quietly.

"And your story? Will you tell it, so that it will be remembered?"

"Mine?" she answered quizzically, her eyes which had once lingered on the rippling silk of the sea, rose to meet his darker sight. "Do I have a story?"

"Indeed, you do," he nearly chuckled before gesturing with thin arms and gnarled hands at the world around them. "This is your story. Your fairy tale."

"I don't know what you mean."

"We all have a story to tell, Momotaro-sama and each has a beginning, middle and end. Like a deep pool overflowing with adventure and love, it holds every trial and every lesson learned for as long as it is remembered. When you meet the end of this poetic prison, never forget what this place has taught you. It is through your memories and actions that we are truly able to exist beyond these impossible walls of ink and paper."

"I think I understand. Never forget, right?"

"Hmm," he snorted lightly at her rather concise summary before smiling slyly. "Yes, my lord. And perhaps, if you allow your thoughts to loiter on who you have become, you will find the answer to your companion's struggle."

"Really?"

"It is all there before you," he assured, tapping his temple lightly, "You must only think back on what you've learned."

Pouting at yet another mysterious answer and knowing all too well that he would never elaborate on it, Kagome's sight returned to the outlying bay. Catching her eye, a dark blemish tarnished the even plane of its surface. Like a maroon teardrop lost in an ever-reaching sea of blue, its nature became clear as they drew nearer in their meandering descent. Carved elegantly to resemble a koi fish with crimson sails fanning above it like fins, the boat rocked gently on the current beside a lonely dock.

The deep sand muffling the beat of its hooves and the grind of its wheels, the produce cart ended its journey beside the worn planks of sun-bleached wood that bound the swaying ship to shore. The school girl slowly rose to her feet, steadily balancing herself on the dilapidated wagon as she looked over the ornate vessel in awe.

"Is that what we're taking to Oni Island?" she asked, still marveling at the detailed patterns of scales and fins that shaped the hull.

"Indeed, my lord," he answered before leaning back to spy on his cargo. "Mon-Ki! Fe-San! You would leave that Do-Gu be if you were wise."

"But, we're not wise, wa-ah," the monkey piped up cleverly, disinclined about leaving his warm spot next to the pheasant.

"Go now, you two," he scolded sternly and the pair quickly grumbled their displeasure at his order, reluctantly leaving their neatly groomed bed of silky, silver hair. "And stop grousing."

"I'm not grousing," Fe-San disagreed petulantly.

"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm pheasanting."

"I see," the old man smiled, "Then go pheasant over there, Fe-San." After a derisive squawk was leveled in his direction, he watched the disgruntled animals make their way to the tethered ship.

"They're a bit stubborn right now, aren't they?" Kagome observed, casting an eye down to catch the monk's shrug.

"If you know the tale, then you understand that the dog, the monkey and the pheasant were not always allies. Yet here, through years of repetition and forced camaraderie, they have become nothing but. The friendship is not without struggle as they once began every reiteration separate. With the dog under the first tree, the monkey upon the hill and finally the pheasant in the furthest tree, they were always alone waiting for when Momotaro would arrive to acquire his army. That is until someone gave them the idea to wait together."

"You?"

"It was a simple suggestion," he added humbly, "But, that was what they needed. With every beginning, Mon-Ki and Fe-San find each other and when Momotaro eventually arrives, he brings their final comrade, Do-Gu. In their eyes, Do-Gu is one of them, whether he acknowledges it or not. For better or worse, they will never abandon him as they will never abandon you."

"It's hard not to admire that sort of devotion."

"It can be trying at times," he sighed, before nodding slightly towards the still slumbering demon. "Gather the last of your army, Momotaro-sama."

"Oh, yeah," she murmured, her sight leaving the old man beside her to find the placid face of the youkai lord at her back. "Sesshoumaru-sama. Sesshoumaru-sama!"

The burgundy shade of his eyelids still troublingly absent and the charcoal beneath his eyes still troublingly present, his eyes of gold severed by the slit of his pupil opened to find her upside-down and worried stare. Scarcely a moment passed before his gaze silently left hers and the demon gradually moved to stand amid the fruit. A faint frown of perplexity graced his lips next as he examined the texture of his particularly plush pelt and perfectly combed hair. Shrugging away the inexplicable fortune, he leapt over the rear gate of the cart to land softly on the dimpled rises and falls of the sandy beach.

Without remark or concern, the slowly ambling tai youkai left the watching monk and miko to step onto the narrow dock. Dipping rhythmically with each weighted stride, the splintered wood swayed as he walked and then less so once his boots found the sturdy gangplank. Up the incline he went, disappearing aboard the beautiful vessel.

"Think back on what I've become and I'll know why, right?" Kagome asked with determination brimming in her soft voice. Her focused stare lingered on the emptiness of waxed wood and scarlet sail where the silver of the youkai lord was last seen, before her sight fell to the monk at her side. "And I'll know why he's hurting?"

"Yes, you will, Momotaro-sama. But, before you depart, there is something I believe you and Mon-Ki will need before long." Leaning back as far as his stiff joints would allow, he pointed to a large, woven box hidden beneath a littering of oranges and persimmons. Brushing the fruit aside with a few careful sweeps of her hand, she lifted the lid. Packed within and wrapped protectively with silk, a bevy of polished weapons glinted before her eyes. Grinning while she sorted through them, she spied a dagger whose lacquered sheath was engraved with a battling dog, monkey and pheasant. At their victorious feet lay the horrible, slain figures of the unfortunate ogres that had crossed their path.

"I believe this is probably Mon-Ki's sword."

"You would be correct."

"Which one is mine?" she asked next, overwhelmed by the varying blades and staffs.

"Whichever one you wish to have is yours."

"Then, can I have this one?"

"Hmm?" he murmured questioningly when she carefully revealed a long and slightly curved package. Entertaining an awed reverence, she unwrapped its length to find the youthful wood of an unstrung bow within. Devoid of embellishment and exoticism, Kagome admired the simple craftsmanship that went into its making. She soon found the leather quiver, nearly overflowing with the feathered ends of its arrows.

"Can I have it?" she repeated her request, puzzled by the monk's ensuing silence regarding her discovery from within the box.

"When I failed the Dragon King," he began, his voice coarse and wistfully sad, "I was never more ashamed in all my life. The memory of it has faded with time, but by no means has the dishonor done so whenever my thoughts drift over that chapter of my tale. Many of these weapons are ones that I have found in my travels through the scroll; however that bow you desire is my penance for the disgrace I had done to that immortal dragon."

"I don't think he would ever hold you responsible like that. You had never held a bow before, let alone used one."

"He did not have to. I am more than willing to accept such guilt, but I am not one to wallow in it. If this realm grants one thing, it is time. I whittled out countless bows from countless woods, searching for the right suppleness and might. I crafted them to numerous lengths, seeking the correct size. Sinews and fibers were quested for next as I learned to string my creations. Eventually, I hewed arrows and found the best feathers to fletch them with. Then I taught myself how to use it until no mark was safe from the strength of my arm and the steadiness of my hand."

"Then you've done it."

"What have I done?"

"There's no reason to feel guilt, if you've already redeemed yourself, right?"

"Why do you believe I am absolved now?"

"By carving this bow and becoming an expert marksman, you've ensured that what happened with the Centipede will never happen again. We can't change what happens in the past, but we can decide what we make of our mistakes in the future. I think the Dragon King would be proud of you for what you've accomplished, because then his children wouldn't have died in vain."

"You are wise for someone so young."

"Maybe one day I will be."

"An inevitable event," he remarked with a grin before gesturing with a knobby finger at his prized weapon still cradled in her hands. "It is yours if you wish to use it."

"Really? It means so much to you. I couldn't take it now."

"Seeing it in your hands to be used for warring against the evils of Oni Island is a better fate than to collect dust as a reminder of a failure in my past. I will carve another and it will be an endeavor of pride and not an atonement of shame."

"Thank you," she said sweetly, her eyes glossing a bit when her gratitude reminded her of all that the old man had bestowed upon her. First, he had returned a piece of her life had been robbed from her. Even now as it floated on the surface of her mind, too vast and inconceivable to truly be absorbed yet, she knew she had been afforded a perspective she could have never learned of without his aid. Lastly, he had given her a weapon so that she could fulfill her destiny as Momotaro and one that was not easy to part with. Gripping the sanded wood of the bow tightly, her purposeful stare anchored to his dark sight. "I will not forget what you've done for me and I will never forget your story. Your wish of living beyond this scroll will be fulfilled in me."

"And your story?"

"It hasn't finished yet," she remarked artfully, slinging the swollen quiver onto her back before swiftly stepping down the aged and broken ladder. Agilely landing on the sand below, the school girl quickly crossed the length of the dock, the planks bouncing roughly with every hurried step. "Goodbye! I hope you will always find peace with the sea and even more so inside your heart."

"Farewell, Momotaro-sama and good fortune to you in the adventures and life that await you!" Smiling at her earlier promise, the monk sighed longingly in the cool, ocean air and vanished, his services in this tale having me their end and the desire to find a good switch of ash warming in the back of his mind.

"Are we ready?" Kagome asked cheerfully of her two animal subordinates when her sandaled feet met the gangplank. Still crouched resolutely on the dock, they busily pecked and pulled at the knots binding the boat in place.

"Almost, wa-ah," Mon-Ki grunted out as he stood up to yank on the thick rope of a particularly difficult tie. With white canines flashing as he pulled with all of his might, the little primate toiled with barks and squeals of effort escaping his lips. Finally it loosened, sending him toppling over the boards and nearly into the water on the other side of the dock. 

"Are you okay, Mon-Ki?"

"Never been better," he replied, brushing away the dusting of sand that coated his face and chest. After a satisfied grunt, the monkey sprinted up the gangplank with his trailing tail curling behind him. "Let's go Momotaro-sama."

"Are we finished?" she asked skeptically, eyeing the still tethered rope that the pheasant was still dutifully undoing. "What about Fe-San?"

"Hurry up, Fe-San!" Mon-Ki shouted before leaping upon the railing to give his friend a good scowl. "What's taking you so long, wa-ah? We're gonna leave you behind."

"No, you won't," the bird piped up knowingly before gathering the tattered end of rope in his beak. Hopping into the air, he tugged at it while flapping his wings furiously. Soon, a tight loop of the knot shrank at his determination.

"Pull in the gangplank, Momotaro-sama."

"But, Fe-San--"

"Fe-San knew the risks, wa-ah," he interrupted seriously, before his honey-colored eyes locked with her concerned gaze. "Besides, he doesn't use it. He can fly."

"Oh, that's right," she replied, planting her fist into her palm in realization. Kneeling down and grabbing the raised edge that met the deck of the ship, the school girl slowly pulled in the hefty board of wood. Once it was aboard, she dropped it with a loud clap onto the floor and then hurriedly stepped toward the railing and the perched primate that resided there.

"We're leaving," Mon-Ki proclaimed at the increasingly flustered pheasant who gave the length of rope one last good yank before the tie completely unraveled.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" Fe-San exclaimed, beating his wings feverishly as his bulky body flew up to the slowly departing boat. Landing neatly beside his monkey comrade, the bird tipped his head to eye the primate severely from beneath his cone-shaped hat.

"I was only teasing you, Fe-San. You know I would never leave you behind."

"Of course, you wouldn't," the pheasant chirped before jovially nudging his friend with his broad wing. A squeal of surprise erupted from the monkey as the splashing ocean became dangerously close for a moment and he sprang backwards onto the safety of the polished deck.

"Do we need to sail this ship?" Kagome asked as the dour looks between the two grew increasingly severe. Watching another tussle of fur and feathers was not her idea of time well spent, especially when it could roll off into the ocean on any side.

"No," Fe-San replied happily. "It will take us to Oni Island. All we have to do is wait."

"Hmm," she murmured, looking over the vessel as if for the first time. A simple design despite its elaborate details, the boat was a long ellipse of mahogany-toned wood. Three masts protruded from its deck, each bearing tall, ribbed sails that tapered over the others like a flurry of fish fins. 

The gentle whipping of the wind catching in the lofty sails filled the quiet air with its soothing sound. The refreshing silence apart from the tranquil workings of the ship left more than the school girl at ease. Their squabble finished, the two animals found a comfortable corner to curl up and groom each other in mutual forgiveness. Kagome smiled at their doting attentions and then her eyes drifted to the demon lord seated on a bench along the bow. Silvery tendrils of his hair caught on the brisk breeze, his sight washed over the cool sapphire of the sea that faded into the pale azure of the midday sky.

'It was here,' she thought wordlessly, nibbling at her lip to ease her worry at the unknown she was determined to discover. 'All she had to do was think.'


	48. Proof

Chapter Forty-Eight: Proof

Gentle splashes of parting surf lapped at the elegant curves of the wooden koi that glided over the deepening ocean. Sprays of the cool water bathed its sleek, carved body as the occasional wave sought to disagree with the path the ship determinedly forged. With massive, crimson fins bloated and taut overhead, it proved inexorable in its direction and watched the horizon with unseeing eyes as it coursed along the invisible way.

Seated at the bow, the tai youkai's gaze kept that of the vessel's with his amber eyes lingering on the hazy line of gray that separated the sea from the sky. The burden of his unremitting weariness still weighed on him, binding him to where he sat with knots of doubt. A once solid and deeply anchored foundation, his principles felt uprooted and intangible to where the sparing wisps of cloud high above felt more real than his purpose in life. Sesshoumaru sighed quietly, his clawed fingers curled elegantly as he rested his chin on the back of his hand. What did it truly mean to live with pride?

Similarly to the youkai lord at the fore of the ship, another's sight loitered on what lay before her. Kagome had found her spot at the stern and away from the possibility of distraction or discovery. However, unlike him, her sepia eyes did not hold the distant horizon in their reflection; but instead, they firmly watched the white, red and black of the demon ahead. Truth was the intent of her stare, but even as she poured over his person from the fluttering ribbons of silver adrift in the air to the ivory pelt pooled at his boots, she couldn't see what ailed him. 

Her knees bent in front of her, the school girl's bottom sat comfortably on the smooth deck with her back relaxed against the solid, mahogany railing. Then finally and in begrudging defeat, her scrutinizing sight left him to ponder instead on the guiding words the old monk had left her with.

'Think back on what I've become and I'll know why,' she recalled the culmination of what was said silently, knowing that even the faintest whispers were not beyond the hearing of the relatively close youkai lord. In all honesty, the possibility of him listening in on thoughts didn't seem too far-fetched and her vision flitted back to the unaware demon so that she could eye him warily while she contemplated. 'What have I become?'

To understate it, her life until now had been a complicated one and showed no signs of ever changing. Kagome didn't lament the unfettered existence she held before her trip through the well, except perhaps when a difficult calculus exam arose in her own time, which by its very definition, could only be difficult. Furrowing her brow in puzzlement, she wondered when the last time her studies had plagued her mind with their insidious, mathematical functions and derivatives. When was the last time she thought about her journey with her friends to collect the shards of the Shikon no Tama? When did everything beyond the ink prison around her fade away from importance?

Without the expected cycles of day and night, the immeasurable time seemed to split instead into a scattered collection of moments within the painted world of the scroll. A finger rising to tap her lip pensively, the school girl thought on her early exploits within the fairy tales, on these inescapable adventures that she shared with the taciturn demon lord sitting solemnly a ways before her. After all, to know who she had become, she had to recall who she was before she became.

An unbidden memory, the sunken and weary sight of an afflicted mother along with her son and a gifted thimble of rice rose to mind when the school girl considered her first ventures in the scroll. The Tale of Issunboshi felt like ages ago and the heat of a faint, pink blush of embarrassment warmed her cheeks in remembrance. The wretched plight of the disregarded farmers had weighed heavily on her strong, moral sense of justice during her time in that story. This pure, but naive idealism demanded to be heeded by those with the power and the duty to absolve the unfortunate of their struggles. Yet, in her resolute mission to save the farmers; Kagome had neglected her own responsibility to safeguard the welfare of the princess she was charged to protect. But for the grace and sword of Sesshoumaru, the school girl had been given the chance to right the recklessness of her compassion and save the hime from certain and grave danger. 

Accepting the sobering lesson had proven more difficult than Kagome imagined when she found herself alone in a quaint hovel and before a rotted chest filled with gold in the following fairy tale. Then only a simple, white dog, Shiro had been reluctantly granted to the cruel neighbor and guided toward his ill-fated meeting with the cold, unforgiving steel of the man's shovel. Meaning to use the treasure to barter for his life, the school girl gathered what she could into her hands. However, it was the realization of his unwavering pride in the noble sacrifice he would make that stayed her from action. Shiro did not want her to save him and it was not her place to do so, no matter how miserable she felt. The metallic ringing still sounded in her ears from when the gilded disks of money fell back to their place within the overflowing box.

"My reckless compassion," Kagome spoke softly under her breath, her gentle gaze rising to the broad, crimson sails overhead. "My learning to not involve myself in problems that don't concern me. Is that how I've grown? How I've changed?" The whipping reply of wind bracing against the fabric answered her inquiring stare, but it was the blood-toned color that dyed its panels that answered her question. It was a brilliant hue that matched the piercing and haunting glare of a man who chilled her deep to the bone. The Dragon King.

The last remnant of a terrible creature of who even the untouchable gods feared, the immortal Dragon King had come to the school girl for the part of the lord, and she in her well-intended audacity had expected to save him from more than the Centipede. The thin, scabbed-over line drawn by his claw still graced her cheek, reminding her of her selfish altruism and misplaced belief in his innocence.

'I think only then did I understand what it means to be compassionate,' she realized silently, absently rubbing warmth into her forearms with the delicate touch of her fingers. 'To give not only what you are capable of giving, but to give it only to those who want it. Still, how can that be it? How can that be what makes him sick? There must be more to it. Something I don't remember. Or can't.' Then it struck her, the mystifying place that decided it all. The place from where the rustles of palm fronds still whispered in the back of her mind and where the crushing sound of waves meeting the shore still soothed her heart. With verdant peaks and surrounded by aquamarine waters, the lonely island that embraced her long forgotten memories within the ivory sands of its beaches and in the tangled growth of its jungles.

The cold emptiness of solitude burrowed deep into Kagome's chest at the thought of the last tale, its sharp barbs keener with the monk's generously bestowed knowledge of her marooning. The idea of entreating Mon-Ki and Fe-San to keep her company tempted her tongue, but with gritted teeth, she remained quiet and determined to wrestle with her mysterious past without a comforting security of feathers or fur.

Gulping down her misgivings, the school girl let her fears subside and her mind drifted over what she could remember from the beach. As she hesitantly recalled, a low shack appeared in her thoughts, crafted from the fallen trunks of saplings and walled with palm fronds. Embers of a neglected fire burned in a shallow hearth carved into the volcanic stone before the hut and stacks of split logs waited not far away. Sheltering the delicate dwelling and fire pit from the persisting wind, a great wall of rock shadowed the small camp. There her vivid recollections loitered as a clue to her past lay etched sharply on its weathered surface.

'Sesshoumaru-sama's teachings?' she wondered noiselessly, remembering the vertical lines of prose that scarred the smooth plane of black stone. 'Why did I write them and what did they mean to me?' Under a brilliant hail of molten rock and through black, burning plumes of ash, those sagely words had guided her through perhaps the most terrifying battle of responsibility that she had ever faced. However, even as she cherished them in that dark moment, the school girl could do no less than wonder at what those simple lines had meant to her stranded self, so hopelessly alone in the wilds of the untamed island.

Glossing her eyes with a fresh wetness, Kagome imagined her silhouetted figure wandering anxiously and aimlessly along the lengthy, sandy shores with her searching gaze pouring over the empty, rolling waves of surf. How lost she must have been without friends to help her, to support her and to love her. On her own, the sheltered school girl had learned to build shelter and maintain a fire. On her own, she had learned to forage for food and to store fresh water. She had learned to live for herself and without the benevolent crutch of civilization or the indulgent one of those around her who had long been suited to the elements.

'With those words for encouragement, I did it,' she concluded silently, but firmly. 'I took care of myself and I survived, because I knew one day he would come back. He swore to me that he would return and someone like him would never break a promise, never go back on his word.' Her sight found the tai youkai once more and her mind fogged with worry and perplexity. To return as he pledged was in his honorable nature, but to gift her his years, that singular act seemed so foreign that had she not known the fairy tale then she would have adamantly contested the monk's account of her missing time.

Kagome bit at her lip as a myriad of whys fluttered through her mind, many of which dissolved into nothingness with the slightest application of reason. Some lingered longer than others and the thorns of one nearly brought steady streams of tears to her eyes. Had she failed? Had she become so old and pathetic that she was nothing more than a disgraceful burden? Had the generous sacrifice of a few years by youkai lord standards been out of pity for her condition? Had he felt sorry for her or yet worse, had he been disgusted by her?

"No," the school girl muttered obstinately, her gravelly voice broken by the hated, dark emotions that ripped through her with razor claws of self-doubt. "He would never do that." After the frightening debacle she had blindly invited upon herself when she pitied the Dragon King, Kagome knew that Sesshoumaru would never grant anyone his aid out of undue charity. Even if she had pleaded with him on that beach, he would have given her no quarter without her deserving it first. It was with that acknowledgment, the school girl undeniably knew that she had succeeded on the island. That for her triumph, the demon decided to present her with the ultimate gift of respect by returning her stolen youth and robbing her of the devastating memories that surely must have scarred her deeper than any cut.

A deep, quaking sigh of relief shuddering her body, Kagome realized how tense and weary this line of thinking had made her. With her ebony-crowned head lolling back to find the smooth comfort of the wood railing, the school girl's reddened stare remained settled on the motionless figure of the tai youkai as she relaxed. Through all of her contemplating and worry on who she had been and on who she had become, his ailment was still a mystery.

'I just don't understand. If he's not injured, because of Oto-hime's gift, then what else could it be?' she thought irritably with a frown bending her lips into a frustrated pout, before her sepia eyes widened in profound realization at the meaning of her meandering and unspoken words. 'Oto-hime's gift. A gift.' Curiosity piqued, her inattentive gaze focused on Sesshoumaru, the silver silk of his hair and the burgundy stripes of his turned-away cheek reminding her of another youkai and a lesson that had not been hers to learn. 'Shiro-sama.'

Not alone in having her beliefs upheaved by the embedded threads of morality that sewed the fairy tale world together, Kagome remembered the quiet toil the usually intractable youkai lord had endured in the story of his great-grandsire. While perilous battles of might and duty had been hers to face, his were indelibly cocooned in the unsuspecting silk of subtlety. After all, the innocuous natures of lending a dog or carving a mortar were mundane beside the acts of slaying giants and felling unbelievable monsters whose lengths could coil around mountains.

"Still I don't think I could have done it," she admitted in a hushed voice, recalling the affectionate, white dog who had plied her for soothing scratches with his long, pink tongue. "Even now, I couldn't." Understanding the sacrifice better than she, Sesshoumaru had let the malicious neighbor take Shiro to his unforgiving fate. Then and under begrudgingly received direction, the younger demon lord had also crafted the mortar to be bestowed on the same cruel man. 

The elitist disdain for others that had dyed the school girl's opinion of him since she had first met him crumbled away when she learned of the curse and the inescapable shame that shrouded the noble clan of dog youkai. And while she had not been present to witness it, Kagome knew that under Shiro's guidance, the tai youkai found the honor in his great-grandsire's gifts. 

'I guess I'm lucky for it,' she thought with a gentle smile playing on her lips, 'He gave me the greatest gift I've ever received and I will cherish it forever. I will never waste it or give it away. No matter what, Sesshoumaru-sama can be assured that he'll never have to worry about being ashamed of giving my years back to me.' 

Like the summer sun finally breaking through a thick bank of morning fog, Kagome understood at last what ailed the weakened demon. Swiftly, the sturdy, wood bars of her geta sandals found purchase beneath her and the school girl rose hurriedly to her feet. It was so plain and understandable, but with his usually confident and immensely powerful nature engraved deeply in her mind, she had been thoroughly blinded to it. How could anyone be expected to change so fundamentally and so profoundly without lingering in uncertainty, without being shackled by doubt? This wasn't a simple mortar that he had gifted, but a piece of himself that he can never regain.

Clapping across the polished deck and brimming with determination, Kagome walked purposefully toward the unmoving youkai lord. He deserved to know what his gift meant to her and that there was no reason to worry over what she would do with it. She would absolve him of guilt and shame with her words and he would have no reason to hesitate and no cause to doubt.

Steps slowing gradually to a stop, the school girl gasped quietly with a guarding hand finding her open mouth. Fringed in the golden light of sunset, the menacing image of long, red, spiky hair and aquamarine armor replaced the cool tones of the tai youkai. In a fluttering blink, the illusion of the Dragon King vanished and Sesshoumaru remained as he was. Biting her lip to keep her words, Kagome knew now that she could never tell the demon that she would not waste his gift, because he would never ask it of her. If he desired her aid, her assurances, then he would have professed and demanded it. In the end, his chopsticks had always been his to hold and that, she knew would never change.

A frustrated scream aching in her throat, the school girl found the railing and gripped it tightly to release the rising edge of impotence that mounted in her. That damn youkai lord and his stupid pride. Or is it shame? She couldn't tell. Oblivious to her surroundings as she was plagued by her powerlessness in Sesshoumaru's situation, Kagome gave no notice to the animal company that joined her upon the rail.

"Momotaro-sama?" the pheasant squawked hesitantly before her unintelligible grumblings.

"Oh, I'm sorry Fe-San.," she soothingly explained. "I'm just angry and frustrated right now."

"Oh," he replied, his round, downy body squatting down to sit comfortably on the glossy wood. "Is it about, Do-Gu?"

"Why do you think it's about Do-Gu?"

"Because, it's always about Do-Gu, wa-ah," Mon-Ki answered as he found a spot on the other side of her leaning figure. "Every time."

"Really?" the school girl asked absently, musing about all of the Momotaros past whose problems all seemed to dwell on the same dog and perhaps for similar reasons.

"Yep," the bird assured cheerfully, "But, soon you won't have to worry about it."

"How's that?"

"Well, big, angry ogres are very persuasive, wa-ah," the monkey confided.

"I imagine they are."

"So, don't worry about Do-Gu. We'll protect him together. We've done it before and we'll do it again."

"Protect him?"

"Yep, wa-ah. After all, taking care of each other is proof of our bonds, isn't it?"

"That's it! That's how I'll do it."

"Do what, wa-ah?"

"I'll prove it to him, don't you see? I'll prove that it'll never be a waste what he's done for me, all of the lessons and all of the sacrifices. That's how I'll help him. That's how he'll know that he doesn't need to doubt."

"Eh?"

"I'll prove it today."


	49. Courage

Chapter Forty-Nine: Courage

"Momotaro-sama!"

"Hmm?"

"Momotaro-sama, wake up! Wake up! You need to wake up!"

"Are we there yet?" Kagome mumbled tiredly as the persistent chirping slowly roused her from her surprisingly pleasant nap. The unexpected peace of knowing what had become of her on the island had warmed her cold and unsettled dreams and she had greedily indulged in the first restful sleep that she could boast of in a long time. Yet, with everlasting cheerfulness inundating his tireless warbling, the still half-asleep school girl was slowly being deprived of this elusive luxury. Mind awash in a groggy stupor, she hazily considered feeling around for the noisy bird and flinging him righteously overboard in the gratifying hope that he could float as well as the boat. 

"Almost," he replied enthusiastically, oblivious to the vengeful plotting brewing in her thoughts. "You must wake now, general."

"Ugh," she grumbled irritably, her head lolling from side to side against the waxed wood of the high railing. After her animal soldiers had assured her that the ogre stronghold was still many hours away, Kagome had reluctantly returned to her former seat on the smooth deck at the stern of the boat. Between her exhaustion and the soothing sounds of the sailing ship, sleep had found her swiftly thereafter. Arms tidily crossed against her chest, it was the perplexing weight upon them and not the pheasant's chattering that finally persuaded her to open her eyes.

A black-dotted, yellow eye framed with red, wrinkled skin greeted her sight and the school girl bit her lip to muffle the shriek of surprise that escaped her. Green and tan feathers ruffling and his head ducking to near invisibility against his body at her sudden exclamation; the usually flappable Fe-San remained determinedly perched despite the excited flailing of his commander underneath him.

"Are you awake now?" he asked shyly from beneath the meager protection of his conical hat.

"Yes! Of course I am," she answered loudly and indisputably, her body shaking with her racing pulse to match her rapid breaths. "So, we're here? We're at Oni Island?"

"Almost," he quietly repeated his earlier reply, bravely raising his small head from the downy security of his bosom.

"He's right, wa-ah. Look at the sky, Momotaro-sama," Mon-Ki added from the rail overhead, his long tail curled happily around the blunt post he crouched upon. His tiny forefinger pointing beyond the bow, the confident primate gestured to a darkened gathering of clouds. A churning swirl of feathered and shadowy grays, a raging storm grew, swallowing up the benign, blue sky as the enchanted vessel stalwartly sailed toward it.

"It's like a hurricane," the school girl remarked in whispered astonishment, absently finding her feet with the contented bird still cradled in her arms, "Only smaller and without rain." With slow steps, she walked forward, her worried eyes lost to the whirling anger whose tattered vapors blackened the heavens and illuminated rarely with sparing flickers of lightning. Frigid winds stirred as the ship broached the waves beneath the furthest tendrils of the storm's spiraling reach. The wooden koi rocked unsteadily against the surging turbulence, but its crimson sails remained taut and its way true. 

Freeing a hand to grip the water-slicked rail, Kagome steadied herself against the erratically shifting vessel, her ebony hair whipping violently in the rushing air. Blacker than the menacing storm that overlooked it, the jagged silhouette of an island broke the horizon. Twin, angular mountains jutting from its crest, the lonely crust of earth haunted the sea as a severed head crowned with twisting horns. With the empty shadows of its barren cliffs marking its dark, glowering eyes and the rock strewn cove at its fore granting it sharp teeth, the sinister isle smiled a deviously fanged grin at the venturing invaders who approached.

"It's time for me to go," Fe-San stated evenly, wriggling out of the school girl's shielding embrace. Talons raking the rail as he grasped it firmly, he twisted his head around to preen his dense plumage.

"Wait," the school girl protested hesitantly, gripping the rail with one hand while she reached out for the seemingly unafraid bird with her other. "We're still too far. You might get blown out to sea. Can't you wait until we dock?"

"It's not my role to wait, Momotaro-sama," he explained between wiggling pecks that groomed deep into his feathers, sealing his stout body from the elements with the oil of his skin. "Like the original tale, I am the brave trumpeter that announces your arrival and I cannot do that from your side. Without me to distract their attention, the ambush on the ogres would fail and your battle will be that much harder."

"Then let it be harder," she insisted. "I don't want to follow the original fairy tale if it means you have to go by yourself. Something could happen to you and there would be no way we could save you. Is there another way?"

"He's stronger than you think, general," the monkey cut in before the pheasant could respond. "He's an anxious and annoying bird who squawks all of the time and fidgets in his sleep--"

"Hey!" Fe-San squawked in flustered offense.

"But, he's a good flyer and the best fighter I've ever known. Believe in him, because he deserves it."

With a final nod of understanding, Kagome relented, accepting the pheasant's fate as it was meant to be. Tipping his head to eye her from beneath his cap, the bird ruffled his plumes in his unique way of flushing embarrassment.

"I like it when we get a nice Momotaro, Mon-Ki."

"So do I, wa-ah."

Then without further remark, Fe-San took flight into the blustering winds, his bulbous body veering violently as the tempestuous gusts tested his defiance of their churning. Soon, the speck of his being vanished against the nearing island and the passing sentries of porous rock garnered the school girl's attention.

"The ogres," she yelled as the strengthening storm above stripped the sound from her once gently spoken words. "You've fought them before, right?"

"Countless times, general," Mon-Ki replied in like loudness, his coiled tail tightening around the post lest he lose his grip.

"And they always fall for the ambush?"

"Some conjurations are smarter than others, wa-ah," he elaborated with a proud, toothy grin, no doubt referring to himself.

"You don't say?"

"The Ogre Warlord, however is no illusion."

"So, there is another prisoner."

"The monk is an unfortunate and permanent guest of the scroll, but the conqueror of Oni Island is the real prisoner of this story."

"Do you know who he was?"

"No, Momotaro-sama. It has taken my entire existence to remember that, since I was only meant to know the story and my place in it. Anything else is just hard to keep, wa-ah."

"I'm sorry, Mon-Ki," Kagome apologized, silently chiding herself on her assumptions and prying curiosity. It had been easy to forget that he and Fe-San were only elements of Susanou's magic. According to the thunder god's intent, they were never meant to have a mind or body as they were only simple tools meant for a simple purpose.

"Don't worry, general," the primate soothed when his honey-hued gaze caught her somber expression. "The monk once told us that though we aren't real, our friendship will always be, even after the day we disappear forever."

"Do you really think so?"

"Of course, wa-ah."

"Then, he was a wise man," she added softly, her words nearly lost to the dry tempest as her reminiscing thoughts drifted over her recent adventures in the company of the aloof demon lord who presently napped in his slanted corner at the bow. "This place isn't for forever, is it? One day it will be over, won't it?"

"Yes, and you have to relish these times while they last, Momotaro-sama, because in that moment, they will end and all you will have is the memory."

"I don't think the monk was the only wise one."

"I told you some conjurations are smarter than others, wa-ah."

A smile replacing her frown, the school girl carefully released a hand from her tight grip on the railing to caressingly scratch the deserving monkey. However, her prudent caution was short-lived as with one final lurch, the battered ship settled in the calm, teal waters of the small bay. An oval window to the strikingly blue sky beyond, the perfect eye of the whirling storm lay above them and the weathered sails of their vessel emptied. 

Floating onward atop the constant pull of the surf, the wooden koi drifted toward the smooth, black sands of the beach. Rough and desolate, daunting walls of rock formed the island and nestled high between its raw, earthen horns laid a fortress. Glinting obsidian even in the muted light of the intense storm, its crooked towers and ramparts held a strangely organic appeal without a splinter of wood or a leaf of tree to define it. The remaining lengths of sea growing ever thinner, the earth-fated ship's belly finally scraped against the nearing shore, swiftly beaching the carved fish on the flooded sands.

"Mon-Ki, I have something for you," Kagome spoke up, lifting a panel of her tunic to feel for the hard lump secured at her hip. With a gentle reverence, she held out the sheathed dagger and the monkey shivered with excitement at the sight of his favorite weapon. Reaching out tentatively, he grasped the beautiful tanto, but even with his sure grip, the school girl refused to let go. Perplexed, the little primate peered up at the serious countenance of his commander. "Remember, we have to prove to him how far I have come."

"As you desire, general. We shall do it together, wa-ah."

"I have the bow, so you'll have to go ahead. I'll do my best to provide you cover."

"I trust your aim, Momotaro-sama. Perhaps more than my own strikes."

"I hope that means you're good and not bad," Kagome responded with a nervous quaking in her voice as she summoned as much assurance as she could muster in the face of the niggling misgivings that crippled her confidence.

"Of course," he laughed raucously, tossing the sheathed blade casually from hand to tail and back again. Embarrassed by her needless self-doubt, the school girl blushed away her paralyzing foolishness while releasing the small knife into his even smaller hands. She was going to show Sesshoumaru her strength and determination, wasn't she? She was going to prove herself worthy of his gift by embracing every lesson he had taught and absorbing every moral she had endured. Grabbing the heavy board of wood, she dragged the gangplank to the opening in the railing and slid it over the edge until it fell at a steep incline onto the shifting sand beneath the shallow waves.

"Will you wake, Do-Gu?" the monkey asked apprehensively when she finished stabilizing the ramp.

"To prove it to him, I should do it on my own. Whenever I had a problem in the past, I relied on Do-Gu to save me. This time I'll save him and maybe he'll understand that all he's done for me has meant something more than words. That it has become something bigger. After all, this isn't the deserted island where I didn't have a choice but to get stronger. Here, if I defeat the Ogre Warlord and his minions without him, then there's no way he won't feel better. There's no way he won't realize that his gift will always be cherished."

"And you got on Fe-San for going ahead, wa-ah."

"Maybe I am a hypocrite, but I'm still the general, right? Let's go, Mon-Ki, before I change my mind."

"Yes, sir," he agreed with smile and a sure nod before slipping his dagger under the belt of his red pants and leaping lightly onto her shoulders. Taking a fistful of her mandarin collar into his hand and wrapping his tail around her upper arm, the primate gave her a second nod of assurance.

"I'll be back soon, Sesshoumaru-sama," she whispered, turning her head to catch the downy fur and silk of the dozing tai youkai. "And hopefully you'll be able to put your doubt behind you when I return." With a deep, calming sigh to bolster her resolve, she teetered on the rim of the deck. Then without ceremony, the school girl side-stepped down the slippery plank until her sandals sunk into the sand and her calf-length pants soaked in the ocean.

The dark currents tugged at her legs as she waded through them with the grit of abrasive sand slipping between her feet and the wooden soles of her shoes. Arriving with the rhythmic lapping of waves onto the dismal shoreline, Kagome trudged over the dark, water-logged sand and toward the cliff face. 

"That way, Momotaro-sama," Mon-Ki directed, casting a small finger toward a hidden crevice shielded by warped, barren trees and jagged rocks. Narrow and dimmed by shadow, she could make out the faint lines of a stairwell cut into the rock as she neared. Without hesitation, the school girl ascended the steps, trusting in the primate's experience and her knowledge of the story. Momotaro and his soldiers had found a secret entrance into the fortress and if there ever was a path that would lead to such a place, this would be it.

Endless in appearance, Kagome plodded up the flight, her guiding hand slipping over the roughly chipped wall whose uneven edges had been barely smoothed by time. Beads of sweat glistening on her forehead and cheeks, she was nearly exhausted before she had even begun to fight when the way opened up to the oval sky amid the reaching storm.

Bubbling as it cascaded down the litter of rock faces and then lingering in current-sculpted pools, a clear stream flowed across her leveled path. Beyond its trickling lay a set of large, stone doors engraved with a haunting visage of ogres ravaging the countryside. On its stark relief, the demons slew villagers as they set their homes ablaze and toted away riches and women as their spoils of unrivaled war. Disgusted by the imagery, the school girl looked to the monkey on her shoulder for his guidance and distraction.

"Mon-Ki?" she called out when saw the concern that etched his slightly protruding brow.

"They're not here."

"Who's not here?"

"The princesses."

"I had forgotten about them," she murmured thoughtfully, recalling the tale from her memory. "They were supposed to find a way to let us in, weren't they?"

"We can get in without them, wa-ah."

"Then why are you worried?"

"The Ogre Warlord has been lapsing into a sickness lately and during his worst bouts he does that which he should not."

"I don't understand, Mon-Ki. Are you trying to say he does something to the princesses?"

"I should hope he hasn't, general, but their absence does not bode well."

Leaping off her shoulder before she could press further, the primate bounded over the water and scaled the broad door using its carved surface as handholds. Over the crest, he flipped and with his disappearance came a clattering and a steady grinding. Worried over his unseen fate, Kagome crossed the stream and approached the sealed entrance.

"I have unlocked it, Momotaro-sama," he whispered through the seam where the two doors met when she arrived. "Pull on the handles so that you may enter as well, wa-ah."

"Okay," she answered quietly, grasping the rounded handles sculpted into the heads of demons endowed with twisted, demonic faces. With a determined grunt of effort, the doors bellowed their creak while the school girl forced them open. Sitting back on his haunches, Mon-Ki awaited his general, unconcerned by the racket caused by her exertion.

"Let's go, Momotaro-sama," he finally said when she had cracked them far enough for her to squeeze through. "We shouldn't leave Fe-San waiting."

"But, the noise," she managed between panting breaths. "Wouldn't they have heard that? Shouldn't we be careful?"

"Perhaps," he replied and followed with his characteristic, toothy grin, "But then again, Fe-San is louder. Listen carefully, general." Faint on the breeze, the nearly imperceptible, rough squawks of derision floated to her ears and a similar smile found Kagome's lips as well.

"Let's join him, shall we?" she offered cheerfully, unslinging her bow from the security of her back.

"By all means, wa-ah."


	50. Trial of Blood

Chapter Fifty: Trial of Blood

The hollow rhythms of currents lapped at the hull of the beached ship, seeping into the tai youkai's ears as if eager to stir him from his deadening sleep. Joining the persistent waves, his brow knitted under the unwelcome glare of sunlight bathing his thinly sealed eyes. With begrudging consent, his dark gray lashes finally parted and the faceted citrine of his irises took in the polished wood and crimson sails that surrounded him.

Tattered and dulled by the voyage, the broad, fin-shaped fabric overhead inspired little interest, however it would be the vacancy of their limp shreds that would swiftly garner his attention. The wind that had kept them swollen and taut was strangely absent and the demon shifted to sit up onto his elbow so as to discover the reason.

Not unlike the sails, he soon learned that the rest of the ornate vessel was also missing that which it normally held. No matter where his inquiring gaze fell, he was only greeted with the emptiness of waxed mahogany, the odd crew the boat chauffeured nowhere to be found. Beyond the delicately carved railing, he found the cause in the sheer, volcanic cliffs of the outlying island.

Leather boots finding purchase beneath his armor-weighted body, Sesshoumaru struggled to stand up so that he could obtain a better view. Sharp and jagged, the harsh outline of the isle cut against the faded blue with its twin mountains piercing the heavens high above, bleeding a festering storm from the putrid wound. The tempest's sapphire eye fixed upon the pointed summits filtered through the rays of the missing sun. However, the black monument of stone amid the churning sea drank up the brilliant light, leaving little left to illuminate its facets.

The demon lord walked across the deck until his hand found a finished corner of railing and his sight the gangplank below, half submerged in the dark waters. His gaze followed the tide as it broke against the beach and then high upon the pressed sand which had yet to feel the returning touch of surf. There he spied the miko's tracks, the regular half-moon print of her geta sandals divided by the two bars that sunk deep with each step.

Unbidden, a scowl grew on his face, furrowing his brow and hardening the line between his lips. It would soon be the time of their battle if it had not already begun and the impulsive girl had left him to sleep it away. War-hardened ogres were not foes easily defeated, especially by the tender skills of a fowl, a monkey and the inexperienced priestess who leads them. For all of the recklessness she had displayed in his knowing of her, to allow him to remain behind in slumber would be without a doubt her greatest blunder.

"Or would it be mine?" the tai youkai asked himself, the ire that tightened his muscles and burned behind his glare diminishing at the telling words that trickled through his thoughts. What had he done but inspire the weakness she almost certainly saw in him? How could she see the formidable warrior when he could barely walk? All he had proven was that he could sleep; his mind and body tirelessly shackled by the familiar shame he saw in his clan and held captive by the uncertainty of the pride he could instead embrace.

Smoldering deeper and darker than before, the youkai lord's anger flared, the vice of his grip peeling away shavings from the rail as his claws raked it. Then it shattered, a cascade of splinters raining into the shallows below. With a firm kick, his boot swiftly met with the next unfortunate piece of the low wall, fracturing it under his attention. Soon, more chunks of the ship flew before his indiscriminant wrath as the demon dismantled the vessel plank by plank. The wooden koi offered no resistance now that its destination had been achieved, watching blindly as its beautifully crafted scales and beams flew from its body with a great fervor.

Panting and with perspiration beading across his forehead, Sesshoumaru stumbled back against what remained of a broken mast that had fallen from a well-aimed swipe of his claws. Hand shaking and muscles twitching at the exertion, he rested his heavy head back against the thick pole while he caught his breath. Even in his exhaustion, his eyes gleamed and an air of satisfaction overcame his features. Unbridled destruction did have its benefits. Turning his head to view the ominous island, his jaw locked and his teeth ground. He was not finished. There was more to rend and a miko to question. He would find her and she would tell him her reason for leaving him behind. With that there was no doubt.

OOOOOOOOOO

"There are so many of you today," Fe-San chirped from high on his perch of obsidian tiles that layered the roof of the gate. "It's so pleasant to have such a large audience." A fair distance below, ogres brewed in the open square of the fortress, their ill-content uttered in growls and guttural curses. In sickly hues of bloated green and boiled red, death and rot looked to mark their skin with oily locks of gray hair sprouting from their balding heads. Crude, spiked maces of iron laid heavily on their broad shoulders, some tapping eagerly on their rests as they thirsted for the crunch of bones and the spurting of blood.

"Get down here, bird!" a particularly disgruntled beast yelled, his singular, jaundiced eye veined with red. Clothed like his brethren, tanned, human skins and scalps hung off his back and around his waist, their sagging, empty faces still embroiled in the despair they were slain in. "We're hungry."

"Now, now, I seriously doubt there is enough of me to go around and that would somehow seem unfair, don't you think? You just have to be patient."

"I will devour you myself," he argued with unfazed certainty before gesturing with his meaty hand at his crotch and the deflated face of a woman whose open mouth hung at a telling angle, "And I will hang your skin here in your honor. You'll have to forgive me if I piss on you occasionally."

"See now with that I believe there is enough of me to go around. I think a feather each should cover you all nicely there." A fresh flood of curses greeted his remark and the agile pheasant ducked his head tightly to his bosom as a rock nearly grazed him. "I didn't mean to offend. Honesty should be rewarded and not scorned."

"Damn it, he ducked," the hurler growled in disappointment and then busily searched the crowded area for more.

"I resent that remark! I don't duck, I pheasant."

"Ugh," they groaned in unison.

"Hey, I am far superior to any of those other fowls! My unparalleled skills will not be equated to something that they are named after," the bird insisted with plucky defiance before a cluster of stones hailed from the sky. Nervous squawks erupting from his beak, he dodged the bombardment as if he were liquid and all without rising from his roost. "Let's not get too eager. We'll be fighting soon enough. Maybe now would be a good time for the lady ogres to go inside and huddle in fear somewhere."

"There are no women here, mouthy pigeon," the first ogre enlightened Fe-San with a heated sneer and under the hearty agreement of his vile compatriots.

"Really?" the pheasant mused aloud, "But, I could swear that half of you look an awful lot like women. Are you sure that none of you are women that want to go cower in a corner? No one will look down on you if you admit it."

"No!" the crowd denied in seething anger.

"Well, I can see that now. With no ladies about, you all are a very difficult group to entertain. One would think that if you're all such good friends, then maybe you would help each other out every once in a while. You know, to relieve the tension." Answering in a deafening roar, the ogres writhed with fuming hatred as they demanded the bird's blood and swore to the depraved acts that would swiftly be done to his mangled body. 

Sprinting at the front gate on which Fe-San sat, a fervent ogre leapt up to grab the curving eave. His dirty claws reaching to find a sure grip, he clasped the edge and the thick muscles of his torso swelled as he hoisted himself up.

"I'll be the one to get you, chicken," he promised, licking his fat lips between the decaying orange of his jutting fangs. Slowly, the beast slithered up the eave, steadily pulling his body up the roof, tile by tile. The bird remained indifferent, unwilling to move from his warm post. "I'll be the one to pop your head off and drink the blood from your body like a water bladder."

"I doubt that."

"Why is that? Are you afraid? Are you going to fly away like the chicken you are?"

"To be a chicken," Fe-San remarked wistfully. "Now there's an act that I have little skill to demonstrate and sadly no time to improve."

"Why do you say that when your miserable end is so close?"

"Because, Momotaro-sama is finally here."

Shuddering under a mysterious blow, the ogre's bloodshot eye widened in confusion and his face paled in dismay. Releasing a shivering hand, he felt for his throat and the burning pain that drew his touch. A pair of points doused in blood and tissue, his questing fingers had found a horseshoe-tipped arrowhead protruding from his neck. A scream of horror erupted from him when he realized his fate, its terrified sound becoming nothing more than gurgling bubbles. The pheasant watched on impassively as his eye dulled and the fierce grip he held loosened. Trailing a slick smear of red, his limp body slid down the roof and fell below to be remorselessly trampled upon by his allies.

"Is Fe-san all right?" Kagome blurted out while steadily nocking another arrow into place. "That bastard didn't get him did he?"

"No, wa-ah," Mon-Ki answered, shaking with nervous excitement as the prospect of slaying ogres dominated his mind and twitched his reflexes. "He's still there, perched on the gate waiting for the signal."

"The signal?"

"You're the general, Momotaro-sama. You have to give the orders."

"All right and you're my advisor, right?"

"Yes, wa-ah, if you wish to grant me the honor."

"How have you fought this battle before?"

"Me and Fe-San work as a team and keep them fighting on both sides so that they don't get away and have a hard time cornering us."

"A war on two fronts," the school girl murmured, recalling her history and World War II. With the United States and Britain on one side and Russia on the other, Germany had fallen, because its fighting power had been split. As a commanding tone found her voice and a hard stare darkened her sepia eyes, she gave her orders. "Press them hard to the center, Mon-Ki and I'll give you the best cover you could ever desire. Together, we'll leave none of them alive."

"Yes, sir," the monkey agreed with a broad, fanged grin and bowed low, "We will not disappoint you, general." Then he sprang away, his galloping stride swallowing up the hard, black earth. Despite his speed and verve, the whistling of a rapid volley of arrows would soundly outrace him, the thin projectiles finding their marks in the exposed necks of their evil quarry ahead. Collapsing unsteadily to their knees, the struck beasts fell under the precise blows. Vulnerable, but not quite dead, Mon-Ki finished his general's work, flashing the silver of his blade across their throats as he leapt over their prone bodies.

"Mon-Ki, are we ready!" the pheasant asked excitedly, standing up with his wings ready to spread.

"Let's press them together like a squashed, bean bun, Fe-San!"

"All right!"

Gliding down from the safety of his roost, the brash bird extended his wickedly curved talons and dove hard into the fray of monsters. The razor edges of his claws sought the bare skin under the chin of the first ogre he met, ripping hard through the yielding flesh and extracting a roar of rage and agony as he tore. 

His foe slumping forward as his life spilled from the wound, the pheasant unfurled his wings and flew back into the unexpected grasp of a waiting beast. The usual means of escape cinched against him by the squeezing grip of the snarling monster, he kicked out viciously with his talons, reaching for the gnarled face of the ogre. Hooking his assailant's lips and puncturing his cheeks, Fe-San loosened the crushing hands that bound him. Wiggling free, he soon clucked his admiration when a piercing arrowhead sprouted from his former captor's chest.

Fluid in motion and unyielding in stance, his Momotaro reached overhead for another arrow from the quiver and pulled the bowstring taut once it was nocked. With her following strike, another beast fell, the iron mace he was set to swing at the unaware bird dropping harmlessly from his hands. Determination trailing relief, Fe-San puffed out his feathered bosom at the sight before diving away, his moment of appreciation in battle having passed too long.

"Fe-San, pay attention, wa-ah!" Mon-Ki yelled, slipping agilely between columns of growling enemies, his accurate dagger severing arteries as he twisted away from their searching claws and the bludgeoning of their spiked weapons.

"I know! I know!" the bird squawked, his screeching cries and flapping wings distracting his prey from the deadliness of his talons. "I had to warm up!"

"You always start off jumpy at a leaf falling and end happily surrounded by angry ogres ready to spit you over a fire."

"I need my general to make me brave," he admitted and warbled a satisfied cackle when his claws dug into another throat. "And this one makes me braver than most."

"Same here, Fe-San. Same here."

Churning the chaos as they wove through the throng of bodies, the animal warriors piled the dead, finished the dying and taunted the still dangerous. With their comrades thinned, the remaining ogres knew better than to fall for their deceptive ploys, growing wiser to the distracting tactics. Nodding to their compatriots, it was swiftly understood that the daring creatures that stabbed and slashed were losing the advantage of their diminutive size when their disorderly crowd became nothing more than a handful of organized fighters. 

Pressing their backs together, four beasts remained and neither let the monkey or the pheasant free of their critical glare. Afar, the archer still proved beyond their reach and the lethal strikes loosed at them were beyond their defense. Clasping their weakest member by the shoulders, they shoved him out of their tight circle. Roaring a battle cry and slapping his head, he charged forth, his heavy strides thundering towards the general. Blade and talon finding him before the arrow, the ogre stumbled as he fell, dying several deaths before he met the cold ground. Breathless, the monkey and the pheasant eyed each other before returning their attention to the enemies that still lived.

"Wasn't there three of them left?" Fe-San asked, tipping his head so that he could recount the pair of monsters grinning deviously at them.

"Where's the other one, wa-ah?"

"No!" Kagome raged when the missing beast grabbed her by the arm, showering the ground in blue, glittering light as he squeezed her wrist hard enough to snap it. After sending the bow clattering uselessly to the floor, he chuckled gruffly with his other hand finding her jaw, swiveling her head back and forth as he examined his prize.

"Momotaro-sama!" her concerned soldiers called out, but before they could begin their rescue, the snatching claws of the last ogres seized them by their tails. Holding their trophies high, they prodded the writhing animals in their victory.

"Let us go!" she demanded with a steely glare, ignoring the pinching nails that raked her skin.

"I will," the ogre agreed, tracing a faint line from her chin down the middle of her chest, "But, not before I bleed you out and offer you as a feast for the warlord, boy general."

"You're going to kill me?"

"Of course."

"Wait, please," the school girl begged, tears suddenly streaming from her glossy eyes and the straining fight in her pull to escape gone. "I'm sorry. I was told that I had to fight all of you. I don't want to die. You can have them if you want, just let me go."

"We already have them. You have nothing to barter with."

"Then, I'll do whatever you want, if you just let me live."

"Really?" the monster replied. "To think that the great Momotaro is such a coward that he would choose to be enslaved to our whims rather than die with honor. I will enjoy you before I present you to the fancy of our leader."

"I don't think so," she muttered vehemently, her still loose and stealthy hand having found her last arrow. Swifter than he could react, the arrowhead pierced his eye and Kagome drove it in deep, cracking though the brittle plate of bone and burying deep into his brain. The strength of his hold did not lessen as he fell back, dragging her unwillingly atop his lifeless body.

Wrenching away her darkly bruised arm, the school girl then yanked her only arrow free; its metal tips and shaft coated in the slain monster's thick blood and the jelly of his brain. In one, easy motion, she deftly scooped up her bow and drew it without thought, leveling her unwavering aim between the two remaining ogres and her helpless warriors that they still held captive.

"Shoot Mon-Ki's," Fe-San called out, spying her dilemma and then flapped hard, forcing her decision by ripping away from his brilliant tail feathers firmly snared by the beast who held him. Liberated and whole for the most part, the pheasant pivoted in mid-air, an outstretched set of talons hooking into the monster's eye while he shredded the beast's throat with his other foot.

The finishing arrow flew, finding the heart of the last ogre and ending the siege in a final, agonizing roar. As the lingering cry dulled, Kagome stumbled back, nearly collapsing to her bottom. Fighting the weakness in her muscles, she instead stood trembling, her clothes spattered with red and her eyes searching for the sky and the impossible blue oval at its crest. She lost herself there in that moment. Cleansed of blood and filth, it was the only place she could see that did not remind her of the horror of death that pooled at her feet.

"That was scary," she whispered at last. "I can't believe we won."

"You're the reason why we did, wa-ah," the little primate spoke up, his words drawing her from her light stupor. Sticky with blood, he sat on his haunches with his fur dyed the same color as his pants and his sheathed blade balanced across his shoulders. "Your arrows saved us."

"Do you think so?"

"You're the hero, Momotaro-sama. Without your strength, we would have only known defeat. Whatever you meant to prove to Do-Gu, you've done it. There can be no shame in how you fought."

"I hope so," she smiled before her face fell into mild shock. "Your tail, Fe-San! It's gone!"

"Yeah, well," he chirped nonchalantly, his plumes thoroughly coated in red like his friend's fur. "You can't have anything nice around these guys. It'll grow back tomorrow."

"I guess that's good. Where to next, everyone?"

"There, wa-ah," the monkey replied, raising a finger toward a pair of massive, iron doors at the top of a broad flight of black, stone steps. Wide cauldrons of vigorous fire burned on each side of the entryway, illuminating a figure held in relief on the heavy metal barring the entrance. Crested with horns and overwhelming in his menace, the image of the Ogre Warlord beckoned them.


	51. Trial of Heart

Chapter Fifty-One: Trial of Heart

Sighing away her wearing tiredness, Kagome made her way up the steep stairway, each wooden sandal making a clear clap as she stepped. Bordered on each side, her animal comrades escorted her dutifully as they hopped and flapped, easily surmounting the regular ledges that rose before them. Immense and equally foreboding, the great slabs of iron forged as doors loomed ahead, absorbing the cool, ocean air with their dominating presence. Flickering in brilliant amber by the light of the massive torches burning on each side, the smooth, engraved image of the Ogre Warlord seethed; the harsh shadows of his molded relief darker than a night untouched by the moon.

"Imagine my success," she whispered a piece of the intimate mantra that endlessly orbited through her thoughts since her first arrow had flown. With each heartening repetition, she heard the demon lord's voice less, his deep baritone gradually lightening to her softer quality. The lesson he had taught her was becoming her own to keep and as the last step came to pass, the school girl knew that even as she attempted to prove her worth to him, the triumph she would be sure to know was meant even more so for herself.

As if buckling under the strength of her determination, the grand doors parted, sounding a booming grind while they swept slowly across the floor. Glancing at Mon-Ki and Fe-San, Kagome looked to her subordinates for confirmation when the revealing way was clear and was answered with a reassuring pair of nods. Her fierce grip on her relaxed bow tightening, she resumed her quest and fearlessly stepped over the threshold.

Blinking away the blinding darkness, the school girl paused in her stride to allow her sight to adjust to the dim room. Warming in her eyes, lamps of open flame affixed to the walls appeared, becoming small points of light in the broadening space. High above, a vaulted ceiling of black stone caught her gaze. Without a beam of support, it towered unnaturally overhead with the mirroring dots of orange fire along the walls playing across its surface like constellations on a starry night. Brilliant in reflection as its counterpart with every glimmer illustrated flawlessly, the polished obsidian floor flowed below, echoing crisply as the intrepid conquerors delved deeper into the fortress.

The slick, spattering sound of liquid abruptly replaced the clean sound of their footfalls and the school girl searched the poured glass beneath her feet for the mysterious cause. A deep crimson even in the low light, streams of blood trickled and at the headwaters her stunned sight discovered the cause. Limbs sprawled at strange angles and their delicate, silken attire dyed with their lives, Kagome found the princesses.

"I thought so, wa-ah," the monkey spoke up solemnly, quietly moving to be beside one maiden's head so as to smooth her unbound hair from her fair face.

"He did it again, Mon-Ki?" Fe-San blurted out worriedly, the clatter of his talons tinkling with his nervous jittering. "Why does he keep doing this? Why does he keep killing them?"

"Because they betray me, bird," a sinister voice rasped venomously ahead, the vague silhouette of his stooped figure sharpening in the strengthening light. Taut muscle stretched too thin over a skeletal frame, the Ogre Warlord stared at the conquerors with a long, open vest of scalps draping over his gaunt body and a tattered pair of hakama pants cinched at his waist. Beneath him lay the stacked corpses of more slain ladies, their soft bodies proving a comfortable seat. "I punish all who betray me."

"They didn't do anything to deserve this," the pheasant squawked vehemently, his voice cracking under the pressing weight of his outrage.

Ignoring the outburst for a stranger fascination, the teetering beast dragged the edge of a rust-spattered dagger over the lean muscle of his sunken stomach, trailing glittering sparks of blue as he loosed rivulets of blood. The mutilating lines he drew seemed without purpose, uncaringly carving a maze of channels in every direction. His flustered anger nearing an unbearable peak with the warlord's inattention, Fe-San stretched out his sticky wings as he prepared to add his own slashes to the ogre's growing collection.

"Wait," the school girl spoke up as she stepped in front of the enraged bird, hoping her slight, but eclipsing figure would be enough to subdue the bird's fury.

"He's killed them again."

"I know," she soothed gently, spying over her shoulder to catch his distraught sight. "And I think I know why it hurts you so much to see that he has. But, you need to remember why we're here. Remember that you're one of my soldiers. So, stay calm and strong for me, because I'm your general and I still need you."

"Then, I will wait for you, Momotaro-sama," he finally replied softly in his quaking voice, tucking his wings away as she asked.

"Thank you, Fe-San."

A hollow, sardonic laugh echoed in the great hall, drawing their attention to the beast. Knife protruding from his shredded gut as he paused in his disfiguring amusement, the warlord grinned with a sadistic glimmer flickering in his bloodshot eyes.

"How very touching that you should care to calm nothing," he remarked once his twisted mirth quelled to a scattered collection of disturbing chuckles.

"He's more than nothing," she answered sharply, her comforting tone a moment earlier lost to his callous words.

"Magic is nothing. It has no life and no value. It is worthless."

"And you're not worthless, because you have life?"

"No, I'm worthless as well," the Ogre Warlord disagreed knowingly, retrieving his blade and sampling the blood that coated the sharpened metal. "But I am no betrayer. Not like him and not like them."

"Not a betrayer like Susanou you mean."

"Hn," he snorted indignantly before setting the point of the dagger onto the pad of his knobby forefinger, balancing it effortlessly with the hilt aiming toward the ceiling. "There is no greater traitor than he."

"How did he do it? Who were you before your imprisonment in the scroll?"

"It's strange," he replied, his unsteady sway jerking his movements from side to side, but never allowing the knife to fall. "I don't remember my name, but I remember what he did. The very memory sears my flesh with every conscious moment that I spend in this loathsome realm, branding me forever as a fool. 

"Countless ages ago, I was the leader of a band of mercenaries. I was not a powerful youkai, an evil dragon or a pure goddess like others here, but a former bandit who found valor on the battlefield. Everyday, I led my soldiers in search for war, slaying men and demons for the highest bidder. It was a bloody business and I enjoyed every piercing scream and agonizing death visited upon my enemies, because their undoing meant another gold coin earned and brought me closer to realizing my aspiration of lordship.

"A particularly difficult victory left our numbers low and I sent my persuasive scouts to gather volunteers from nearby villages. Upon their return and amid their reluctant recruits, they escorted a particularly pathetic man mired in self-pity and misery. Unworthy for the strenuous trials of combat at first glance, I alone saw a fury brewing in his dark eyes, a violent tempest surging in his soul. Recognizing this, I knew that with the right training he could harness his anger to become an unmatched warrior in any fight."

"Was he Susanou?"

"Who else could it be other than him?" the ogre replied spitefully, his eyes darkening in hatred at the sound of the god's name. "At first, harboring this man swiftly proved my advantage. He was insatiable once armor weighted his body and a sword found his hand, slaughtering our foes seemingly without a glimmer of compassion to stay his blade. All that I taught him of war and tactics, he absorbed with a matchless fervor and in return, he was to me a brother in arms that I had never before held in family.

"My foolish trust had become so profound that when I discovered the tale of a priceless sword hidden in the immense body of a dragon called Yamata-no-Orochi, I divulged it to him. That was not the end of my ill-placed imprudence as I had also devised a plan to slay the beast so that the weapon could be liberated from the evil flesh it was entombed in. Those wretched, earth gods had sacrificed so many of their children when the method of sparing themselves had been in their hands the entire time. Drunkenness makes mice of even the greatest beasts and an enemy of the gods such as that eight-forked serpent was no different.

"The burning fumes of smoke scorching my breaths, I awoke the next morning to find the camp ablaze and my army murdered as they slept. Even my ever alert guards had found unexpected deaths through a cowardly sword to their backs. The heavy, war chest I had groomed for so many years lay plundered, not one gleaming piece of my wealth left. All else burnt away until the field was blackened ash and I stood alone amongst the smoldering remnants of my dreams. 

"I searched for that man amid the endless corpses, wishing to honor my closest comrade through proper burial so that he would not be left for the appetites of the crows. His body eluded my hunt, but so did his armor, sword and horse. No belongings that were his could be found and that is when I realized who the vile traitor behind my downfall was."

"Susanou has betrayed many and he seems to always leave someone behind to know it was him."

"There was a purpose to it and my imprisonment here serves it as well. For years after that man's betrayal, I struggled to rebuild that which he destroyed, but my paranoia and disgrace kept my successes meager and my defeats grand. A bandit I was born and a bandit I was when the strange fog of this scroll overtook me. Stripping away my humanity and clothing me in the tattered skin of a monster, that man bestowed me a province to rule and an army of beasts to oppress it. My lifelong dream realized in a perverse fashion and repeatedly ripped from my grasp by a young boy and his insignificant animal soldiers.

"I still don't understand the reason for your imprisonment. If Susanou betrayed you to become a god again, why would he seal you here? You haven't insulted him or acted cruelly toward him. You gave him a place and a purpose and he tortures you for it? It doesn't make any sense."

"He did not do it to punish me as much as he did it to conceal me and what I know. In my plan to slay Yamata-no-Orochi to recover the famed sword, Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, that man discovered a path to his restoration. If I had perished to journey in the afterlife, it would have only been a matter of time before his tale of deceit reached important ears. Once he could claim his powers again, I was silenced in this contemptible domain of his creation.

"Then again, perhaps the greatest irony lies here in this scroll as well. In the evenings, my army would gather around the hearth fires to tell stories and craft poetry, seeking to pass the time and reminisce about the innocence of our youths. Never had I met a man so fascinated as he when these familiar stories were recited, as if he had never heard them the hundreds of times we all had. The Man Who Made Withered Trees Bloom, My Lord o' Bag of Rice, The Tale of Urashima Taro, he loved them all and his favorite was none other than that of Momotaro and his quest towards glory. In a warped celebration of the honors I had given him, he placed me here to play the warlord villain when I was once his closest ally."

"I'm sorry for what happened to you," Kagome apologized once he was finished, swallowing down hard at the next words that she would speak. "But, as much as you hate Susanou, you've become no better than him."

"How is that, little, boy general?" the angering ogre hissed harshly, flipping the dagger he formerly balanced into the air and then catching it by the blade with a steady rhythm. "Do I deserve my fate?"

"No one deserves this fate," she replied, standing as tall as she could in an attempt to quiet the trembling that quaked in her legs. "But you talk of the torture of betrayal when you yourself are a betrayer."

"How dare you call me such!" he roared heatedly, his intense red eyes piercing through her and the knife he unrelentingly tossed cutting deep gashes into his fingers under the iron of his grip. "I have deceived no man and am a traitor to no god."

"Then what do you sit on, Warlord?! Who lies dead beneath you to be stepped on by your dirty feet?"

"They are nothing!" he raged, his rapid breaths coursing through him and his erratic lurching deepening in his fury. "Shaped magic designed to betray me and open my gates to grant you and your nothing army a method to destroy all that I have! They deserve no quarter!"

"But, they are your prisoners just as you are Susanou's."

"Why do you keep saying his name?"

"Whether these women are illusions or not, they are only doing what they are meant to do, what Susanou intended. They shouldn't be faulted or punished."

"Stop saying his name! Stop it now!"

"They're your spoils of war, the priceless treasures from your victories. How can you lament what Susanou robbed you of in the past when you destroy what you have now?!

"Stop it!!"

Spinning end over end like a star of red and silver, the soiled dagger flew from the ogre's hand and arced through the air toward the deliverer of his torment. Caught in disbelief and distracted by the panicked scrambling of her soldiers at her back, the school girl scarcely realized what the flashing object was before her until it had nearly reached her throat. Then, a brilliant shower of molten, blue sparks erupted in her sight, drawing unbidden tears to leak from her eyes while she reached unsteadily for her neck and the dagger she would no doubt discover. Finger tips trembling over unmarked skin as the glittering light dissipated in the warm air, the silhouetted back of a striped wrist found her gaze.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?" she murmured her question softly when her blurred vision drifted up his outstretched hand and over the white and red silk of his coat. Turned to face the mumbling insanity of the warlord, his stalwart attention did not stray at her quiet request. Following with a swift jerk of disgust, the youkai lord flung the knife from the wound in his palm, spattering the polished floor with his blood without a waver in his concentration.

"Are you all right, general?" Mon-Ki asked in a hushed voice. "I am sorry that we are not as fast as Do-Gu."

"Don't worry about me," she answered shakily, her twitching nerves still screaming their distress. "I'm fine and I know that both of you did your best to save me."

"I guess it's good that he didn't stay on the boat, wa-ah."

"Yes and I need to finish this even more so now than I had to when he was gone," she announced bravely, rallying her resolve before stepping around the perplexed demon and his assured protection. Sandals clacking as she walked, Kagome approached the crumpled figure of the Ogre Warlord. Rocking on his toes as he sat, the distraught beast took no notice of her presence until her gentle hand found the rippled flesh of his shoulder.

"It's time, isn't it?" he whispered roughly.

"I'm sorry that I can't save you. It's not my role even if I had the power. All I can do is wish that you will find some measure of peace until the day comes that your spirit is finally free of this place."

"Then instead, will you help me break them? Will you help me break off my horns, so that I can be free of this world if only for a little while?"

"Yes," she replied kindly and he reached to grip the long, pointed curves that protruded from his forehead. Her hands delicately sliding over his, they pulled together. With a terrific crack and the burning blue radiance of the scroll's power, the warlord's horns snapped from his head and he vanished into nothingness.


	52. Fulfillment

Chapter Fifty-Two: Fulfillment

Crumbling to fading dust to join their already vanished owner, the Ogre Warlord's horns disintegrated in Kagome's relaxed grip. Strangely captivated long after the last mote winked from existence, the school girl's sight finally rested on the familiar creases of her open palms. Warmth brewed there in her empty hands and she watched as blue, glittering specks coalesced in the air, collecting in her waiting grasp as if meteors drawn to Earth. Forming a small plane of gentle radiance, it cooled after a moment and revealed a smooth sheen of obsidian. Engraved on its flawless, volcanic glass, the cross-shaped kanji for earth scarred the plaque's surface and under the delicate grace of her fingers, Kagome could feel the next lines of poetry awaiting her on the other side.

"It was a good battle, wa-ah," Mon-Ki piped up, stretching his slight and limber body at protracted angles while entertaining a deep sigh.

"Yes, yes!" Fe-San agreed heartily, eagerly ruffling his viscous mass of feathers, but avoiding the temptation of grooming away the drying blood that stained them. There was inevitably no point in suffering through the bitter taste of ogre when he would be cleansed shortly by the meticulous lather of magic.

"It's time for you guys to go too?" the school girl asked softly, turning to face her brave, knee-high soldiers. The tinge of sorrow marbling her voice was not lost on them and the animals scampered forth as she crouched down to embrace them in her farewell. "I'll miss you two. You've both done a lot for me, whether or not you were meant to."

"Of course we did, wa-ah," the monkey replied warmly, nestling close with the pheasant cooing his contentment at his side. "You're our general. We would do anything for you."

"I know you would."

"And we'd keep following you if we could, Momotaro-sama."

"I know that too."

"All right, Fe-San, we should get going," he abruptly barked, hating the lingering goodbye that only served to remind him of his insurmountable limits. Grousing under his breath at the pressing truth in the primate's statement, the bird stubbornly continued in his satisfying snuggle before a more persuasive line of reason earned his enthusiasm. "If we head back now, I bet we'll finally catch that fish, wa-ah."

"Really?!" the pheasant chirped suddenly, barely containing his burgeoning excitement. "Why didn't you say so earlier? Let's go! Let's go!" The monkey squealed as the assertive bird charged, spreading his wings enough to usher his friend toward the exit. One tail curling and the other missing all together, they noisily headed toward the broad, iron doors.

"Wait, Fe-San," Mon-Ki interrupted the twittering jubilation, ending their rushed scamper as they came to pass the looming figure of the motionless youkai lord. Pushing his straw, cone-shaped cap up from his pink brow, the little primate eyed the demon sternly. "It was all for you, Do-Gu. Remember that above all else."

Satisfied that his assertion had been heard if not heeded, the monkey gave the pheasant an affirming nod and together they toddled away until their presence evanesced into nothingness. With their disappearance, the slain princesses shortly followed suit, emptying the room of their tragedy and leaving the travelers to their quiet thoughts. 

Fingers dwelling on the edges of script that broke the smoothness of the polished plaque, Kagome nervously avoided the piercing stare of the imposing tai youkai who shared the hall with her. Lengthening each passing instant to an eternity, the bloated silence thickened in the warm air until she could barely choke out another soundless breath. Desperate to hear anything beyond the crackling of torches, a myriad of meaningless words tempted her tongue, but before she could utter one, he spoke.

"Why did you not wake me?" Sesshoumaru demanded in a harsh tone, not quite concealing the razor edge of his anger beneath the façade of his usual indifference. Her sight falling to the thin plank of stone in her hands before his inescapable question, the school girl bit at her lip with the countless words she once held failing her but for the few honest ones of dangerous result. "Answer now."

"Because, I didn't want you to come," she blurted out under the severity of his brusque command, surrendering to the overwhelming swelling of his youki. "I didn't want you to be here when the battle happened. That's all."

"Why did you not wish for my presence at such a time, miko? Did you believe me weak? Did you believe me too feeble for battle?" he continued in escalating harshness, taking a firm step toward her with the intent behind his pointed accusation cutting him as deeply as it did her. Tangled in the barbs of doubt and shame for the heritage of his clan and for the sacrifice he had made for it, his self-loathing had crippled him profoundly and time had only festered in the wounds. Beyond the unforgiving glower and ruthless tone, the youkai lord knew who was truly responsible for his abandonment on the ship and it was not the human woman trembling before him.

"No! Never!" she adamantly denied once he finished, her shocked voice shuddering as she turned to face his hardened glare and locked jaw. "I've never felt that way about you. Ever."

"Then why? Tell me now."

"I just... I just wanted to prove myself to you. I wanted to prove what I can do, so that you'll feel better. So that you won't hurt anymore."

"There is nothing wrong with me that you need concern yourself with," the youkai lord asserted with his usual disregard, the perpetual scowl that graced his features lessening little with her confession. "What ails me is not your business and nor shall it ever be."

"No, I can't accept that," she argued, surprised by the unshakable resolve that bound her words with strength and verve. "I refuse to accept that."

"What?" Sesshoumaru said ominously, his expression darkening dangerously with her bold defiance.

"I can't let it be any longer," she elaborated with continuing ardor, seeing no reason to conceal her purpose in the face of his obvious discovery. "I was going to let you hold your own chopsticks, but I can't let it go. This isn't about me rescuing neglected farmers or burdening myself with the misery of a dragon king. I'm a part of what happened to you as much as you are."

"What exactly are you referring to, miko?"

"The monk," she explained, stifling the anxiety that threatened to falter her voice while freeing the heel of one of her hands to dry her spilling tears that streamed more than they trickled. "He told me about everything; the island, Oto-hime and the Box of Time. All of it. I know what you did for me."

"Read the next lines of the poem," the demon ordered severely, deflecting her answer as the claws of his clenched fist burrowed deeper into his already torn palm.

"No! I will not! I know what you did. I know that you were gone for years and that I spent all that time alone on that beach waiting for you. I know that you came back as you promised."

"You will refrain from speaking of this any further. As I have said before, this is not a topic available for discussion."

"I'm not going to let you avoid this anymore and I'm not going to watch you hurt yourself any longer because of me and what you did for me."

"You will stop or I will force you to," he threatened menacingly, granting another irrevocable step in her direction. The school girl's unremitting stance did not waver as he steadily approached, his grim warning of untold consequence haunting each stride and his corrosive aura curdling the heavy air.

"You can't deny what happened and you can't hurt me. The scroll won't let you, so I'm not scared of this threat. You came back for me on that island! You saved me!"

"You will be afraid," he snarled, his restraint cracking before unguarded fury as he leaned in close to face her. The heat of his breaths searing her cheeks, Kagome stared back at the unfurled rage that sharply wrinkled his brow and narrowed his inhuman eyes. Had she been able to hold a thought, she would have crumbled before it, succumbing to his engulfing wrath that lay bare before her. Instead, she pressed on through, seeking that which she didn't know but only suspected. She wanted the truth, ached for the truth and she would drive it from him.

"You sacrificed your time for me, so that I could be free of those long years of pain and loneliness! So that I could have a second chance to live my life! Why?!"

"Enough!"

"Why did you do it, Sesshoumaru-sama?! Why?!!"

"Because, you deserved it! Never have I known another who deserved such a gift more than you in that moment!" he yelled, his fangs flashing as his roaring admission echoed throughout the spacious hall. Breaths ragged with liberating relief and the slivered remnants of anger, the tai youkai had barely a thought to realize the depth of his revelation when his lips were seized. Pleasingly warm and with an innocent tenderness, Kagome's mouth pressed against his in a gentle kiss. Mind and body dulled by his rare stirring of emotions, the demon lord remained frozen with open astonishment until the school girl squeaked in surprise at the unbelievable audacity of her act. Jerking away with a vivid blush staining her cheeks, she raised a hand to her offending lips.

"I-I'm sorry," she apologized behind her fingers and in an excited stutter, her shivering body matching the tangled string of her rapidly-spoken words. "I didn't mean to do that. I don't even know why I did that. It's just... it's just that no one has ever given me anything like what you have. You gave me the confidence and the strength to fight when others have always tried to shelter me. You taught me about what true compassion means and how to save it for those who not only deserve it, but desire it as well. You did so much for me and then you gave me a piece of your life, a piece you can never have back. Know this, Sesshoumaru-sama. I will never waste what you have given me, because it is the most precious gift I will ever receive. I wanted to prove it to you and that's why I left. I wanted to defeat the ogres and their warlord for you, so that you'd know through my actions how much I honor what you have done for me and that I will cherish these years for as long as I live."

The whispers of torches claimed the air as silence fell. Shifting nervously, Kagome stared at the imperceptible expression of the tai youkai, his mildly stunned look her only clue to the grinding of his thoughts. Motionless since her kiss had graced his lips, the meaning behind her jumbled profession seeped through his mind, pouring into the rusted locks of doubt that bound him in shame. Loosening with every sincere, rambling word, the debilitating shackles of his lifelong disgrace finally fell away with the true swelling of pride to replace it in his heart.

"Sesshoumaru-sama? Sesshoumaru-sama?"

Leaning in without warning, the youkai lord slipped past her guarding hand and captured her lips with his. Hopelessly ambushed, the startled school girl stiffened under the inescapable intensity of his advance, his mouth brushing roughly over hers as he guided her hesitancy with his sure touch. Lingering longer than she had, he finally released her from his kiss to catch her eyes. Together in silence, they stared at one another with the faint steam of their heavy breaths moistening the air between them. Golden hues tied to sepia tones; through their shared sight, they discovered mirrored in each other the self-affirming fulfillment they had found in themselves.

Then with the last shred of indecision dissolving in the hot vapor, they met hard halfway, their seeking mouths overlapping for an eager kiss. Gripping fingers reaching to be tangled in the silver hair his scalp, Kagome braced against the tai youkai as he pressed his lips fervently against hers. The opening and closing motions of his enthused mouth maneuvered hers and he tugged firmly on her tender, lower lip, inspiring her to do the same with his. Tasting him with a daring nibble, she breathed hotly in sparing gasps and the demon took advantage of her burning puffs to slip in his tongue and sample her as well. Soft and moist, his tongue explored the features of her welcoming mouth, gliding in a titillating dance with the twists of her tongue before retreating for air. Sliding almost secretively past the ardor of his recurring tasting, the school girl nimbly discovered the contours of his mouth and the slick smoothness of his fangs, sure to avoid the dangerous points that sharpened them.

To her momentary disappointment, his soft lips soon withdrew, leaving hers ruddy and bruised to tingle alone in the swelling heat of the room. Her pouting whimper ended quickly with a trembling sigh as he seared her with messy kisses along the line of her jaw, driving artfully toward the temptation of her ear. Eliciting a startled gasp with her entangled fingers pulling hard on his silken locks, Sesshoumaru nipped roughly at her tender lobe before sucking on it firmly. With another pleasing nibble and the flicking of his expert tongue, a field of tiny goose bumps swarmed along the back of her neck, trailing the icy shivers that swiftly coursed down her spine.

Retreating abruptly from the rousing delight of his mouth, Kagome's eager lips sought his strong jaw with mimicking delight. Earnest and innocent, there she lightly set neat kisses on his porcelain skin, the moist prints she left behind burning his flesh like tiny sparks of fire. The youkai lord's elfin ear fell prey to her appetite next as she bit at it with her dull teeth and then soothed away the pleasant sting with the warm comfort of her bathing tongue. Cunning in intent, her hand slipped down through his smooth strands until her fingers found his other lobe, massaging it through the pinch of her forefinger and thumb and then tracing the delicate lines of his pointed ear. A contented rumble reverberated in his throat and his hand slid down her back, his pressing nails pricking her lightly through the thick, cotton fabric of her tunic while he dragged her body close and wrenched her mouth away from his ear for another battery of kisses.

Leaving her lips numb and raw from his ravenous assault, the tai youkai drew his tongue over the edge of her jaw next and then along the grooves of her exposed throat, smearing the trail occasionally with open-mouthed kisses. His hot breaths drowning in her ears, the school girl moaned softly under his tickling ministrations and reached blindly for the leather ties that bound his heavy armor to his torso. A dark chuckle escaped his busy lips when he felt her fumble with the knotted straps, her urgent attempts voiced by unhappy grumbles and whimpers of frustration. Having surrendered to her determined prying, the right half hung off his pelt-laden shoulder while her wiser fingers undid the other side with a learned ease until the steel that weighted his body crumpled to the floor between them.

Stripped of the shielding armor that warded him from the dangers of battle, Sesshoumaru pulled her closer, the softness of her nubile figure rubbing against the taut muscles that ripped his chest and stomach. The layers of silk and cotton linking their bodies feeling maddeningly thick, he then gently pushed her back to raise his hand between them and his eyes closed in marked concentration. Unsure and mildly embarrassed before his absent explanation, a concerned pout bent Kagome's swollen lips until it was shortly abated by the pale green radiance haloing the demon's plush pelt. The throbbing light dying after a moment, his luxurious fur fell to the obsidian at their feet, the piled ivory contrasting starkly with the black glass. 

With an insatiable desire gleaming in his hooded eyes, youkai lord's hand snaked around her narrow waist and he eagerly drew her close, his swathed flesh already relishing her missed warmth. Mind in a haze of memories, his hand rose to stroke her dusted cheek of imagined sand. Scars marring tanned skin and silver streaking raven hair, the older miko he returned to on that lonely island stood cradled in his arm. She was the woman for whom he gave a piece of himself, so that she could live free of the burden of solitude and have a future of her own choosing. Never to tarry in the light of his thoughts, an unspoken element buried deep in his heart had silently wished to keep her forever that way for him to selfishly embrace on sandy shores and from beneath the rustling of palm trees.

"Together," the school girl spoke up softly, jarring Sesshoumaru's mind from cool breezes of ocean air and the thunder of crashing waves. "We're doing this together, right?"

"Yes," he agreed huskily, gazing at the nervous, young miko as she was and should be. "Together."

Ghosting down her trusting face as she leaned longingly into his healed palm, his fingers glided to the tight mandarin collar at her neck while he dipped in to seize her lips for another taste. Plucking on the dangling ends of each blue ribbon, he undid the line of knots until the flap of her tunic hung loosely over her chest. An exposing glimpse of creamy skin peeked and he leaned back to spy at the revealing of her delicate shoulder and the enticing dip of her collarbone before the fabric plummeted to the soft mound of her wrapped breast. Dissatisfied with a mere hint, he tugged at the finished edges that lined the bottom of her lengthy top and pulled it roughly over her head, subsequently flinging the detestable garment across the room. 

Hair wildly tousled from the violence of her disrobing, Kagome flushed hotly as the warm air breathed on her bare skin and then even more brilliantly so as the tai youkai's predatory gaze traced the nudity of her beguiling curves. Tattered along the edges, the secure bandages binding her breasts were all that clothed her torso and his darkened eyes roamed hungrily over the slender muscle that shaped her slight figure, the well-earned result of months of hard traveling in her endless quest for the Shikon no Tama shards.

Before he could explore her tantalizing flesh further, she quickly brushed up against him to nip at his chiseled chin and then slid her tongue down the masculine grooves of his throat, stealing a husky sigh from his lips. Seeking hands slipping stealthily through the neatly tucked opening of his silken coat and undershirt, her warm fingers eagerly found the hardened lines of his torso in her mission to even the odds. Gliding over the rippled firmness of his stomach and up the long sides of his sinewy waist, the school girl bit her lip in fluttering excitement as the flexing muscles twitched beneath his tickled skin. Her caressing hands slipped under his armpits to emerge at the nape of his neck where she grabbed the lapels tightly and yanked his coats back from his shoulders. Painted amber by the flickering light of the torches, he stood bare from the hips up, the robust planes of his chest and thickly corded muscles of his arm capturing her yearning sight and igniting an embarrassing heat that stirred in her core.

Encouraged rather than dissuaded by her surging desire, Kagome's fingers glided again down his lengthy trunk to tug questioningly at the ties that cinched his hakama pants. Another dark chuckle was his reply and the demon lord sought her parted lips for a deep kiss as his hand too wandered to undo the knot that guarded her from his touch. Dropping free to the cluttered floor below, they liberated each other of the last vestiges of shielding clothing until only bandages and fundoushis remained. An amused chuckle now left his lips as he leaned back from their kiss to admire her cloth undergarment that suited a man more than a woman.

"I'm Momotaro," she admitted with a darkening blush at his appreciative examination, "At least they thought I was."

"Indeed," he smirked, slipping his clawed fingers under the twisted waistband at her hip to grope an exposed cheek. A surprised gasp fled her with his boldness only to escalate to an aching whimper when he gripped the gathered fabric like a handle to guide her back, pulling the thong taut between her legs. After a few unsteady steps, the soft caress of his pelt brushed against her heels. Finished in his maneuvering of her, Sesshoumaru tipped the feverish miko over, her rounded bottom landing gently amid the deep pile of fur.

Toes biting into his heels, he next slipped his boots off with a practiced ease and then followed suit with his dark, tabi socks. Striped burgundy at the ankles, his bare feet relished the freedom of the cool, polished floor. Then with a hunger glinting in his citrine eyes, the tai youkai paused in his advance to approve of the young woman lost among the curling tufts of his pelt. The rouge of inexperience dyeing her cheeks and the burning desire of her need brightening her sight, an appreciative rumble rolled through his throat at what he saw and then he knelt down to blanket her with his body.

Whetting kisses and wandering hands, she welcomed him ardently, her fiery touch seeking to sear the hidden places that would make his breath hitch. Thumbs rolling over the tiny nubs of his slightly darker nipples, Kagome won her victory as his pleased growling ended with a sharp intake of air. Giggling at the train of rasping breaths she evoked, the school girl gazed up at lusting expression, reveling in the unbridled desire she could extract with her fingers from the usually impassive youkai lord.

Propped on his elbow, his chest hovered over her as she explored with his pelvis snugly fitting between the grip of her legs. Firm and undeniable through the thin shroud of silk, the swelling of his member began to grind softly against the apex of her thighs, stirring a wanton moan from deep within her. Muffling her call with another ambush of blistering kisses, he continued his rocking motions with her seduced hips pitching to meet his until the libidinous needs that fogged his mind could wait no longer.

With a salacious growl, he broke from her to sit back onto his knees, his hand eagerly grazing over the dips and curves of her body. Finally it skimmed over the soft peaks of her breasts, stopping to grasp one hard as he rubbed his thumb roughly over the hardening nub of her nipple. A rasping moan erupting from her throat, she arched into his hand and with a careful claw; he sliced away the troublesome bindings that hid her from him. Exposed and tipped in a light brown, her breasts heaved with every needy breath and Sesshoumaru leaned in, his tongue tracing a spiraling circle around the roundness of one as his hand returned to tug on the tightly budded nipple of the other. A string of whimpers tore from her, building into a seizing gasp as the pinch of his lips closed over her neglected nipple. Sucking and strumming it with his tongue, his rapacious eyes looked up to devour every wincing pleasure and open-mouthed gasp that strained her rapturous face.

Hopelessly lost in the maze of sensation drawn by his tongue, Kagome scarcely noticed the tickling scrape of his nails as they purposefully roamed down the dip of her flat stomach and over the thin, cotton fabric that adorned the gentle ridge of her pubic bone. Slipping his middle finger between her shielding lips, he softly rubbed the damp cloth over her excited clit. A wild moan and curling toes were his reward as she writhed under his new touch, the sharp tingling igniting torrid fires to surge and tighten in her core. Encouraged by her fervent wriggling, his fingers continued their torment, pinching her lips together to polish her hidden nub with the growing moisture that seeped slowly from her sex.

"I want," Kagome pleaded in her trembling voice, reaching blindly for his handsome face. Relinquishing his avaricious hold on her sore nipple, he trailed his experienced tongue up her chest to set kisses along her throat and jaw until he met her beseeching eyes. "I want to do this together. All of it."

"Hmm," he murmured with a devious smile as a tempting idea snared in his lascivious mind, "Very well." Falling back to sit on his knees yet again, the demon tilted away to grasp one of her slender ankles. Bending her knee nearly to her chest, he turned the heated miko over, tickling her leg with nipping kisses as they passed by his mouth. Then, his hand glided contentedly over the soft cheeks of her crumpled figure before laying a stinging swat across her sensitive backside. With a startled squeak and shuddering breaths, her rear leapt up and he slid his soothing hand from the tender, red print he had made to grab her by his favorite handle. A soft whimper joined her rasping breaths as he lifted her end up, the corded cloth tightening and slipping between her lips to teasingly rub over her eager clit and against the stirring pleasure of her sex. Suspended in the sweltering heat of the air, he held her up as he in turn slid his head beneath her hips.

Burgundy stripes flanking his groin, a white, silk fundoushi swollen with need settled beneath her sight as Sesshoumaru finished centering himself under her body. Finally releasing her from his sure grip, Kagome collapsed gently against his chest and stomach, her bruised mouth inadvertently grazing the smooth fabric and inciting a wanting surge within. A pleased growl rolled from the tai youkai's throat and he shifted his hips to rub hungrily against her inviting touch. Emboldened when she would have previously hesitated, she met his appetite with blushing kisses along the length of his arousal, sending a fresh wave of scorching blood to his groin. His throbbing want rose to greet her for every affectionate peck; she soon bit her raw lip in shivering anticipation as she daringly slid her fingers beneath the waistband of his fundoushi and pulled it down over his lifting hips.

Springing to embrace its newfound freedom in the steamy air, demon lord's hooded member stood erect as it naturally tilted toward his stomach. Longing for her inviting mouth, clear droplets beaded at the tiny slit of his peeking head and the school girl's curious fingers slipped through the silver of his groomed hairs. Warm and fluttering, her unsure fingers before long ghosted over the velvety skin of his shaft, inspiring another groan of contentment and Sesshoumaru nibbled her inner thighs lightly with his mounting pleasure. Thick and stiffening with her caress, she followed his growling cues as she learned the strokes that elicited his greatest delight until her hand unexpectedly pulled down the delicate skin that housed his mushroomed head.

Eager inquisitiveness stealing her heated thoughts, Kagome leaned in to kiss the tip gently, the salty liquid loitering there smearing over her lips. Tasting the pleasant brininess as she licked it away from her mouth, she keenly dipped in to sample more from the source. Hot and moist, her limber tongue swirled around his sensitive head, leaving him to pitch hard into her open mouth as he groaned loudly. The unanticipated intrusion startled her, but she swiftly relaxed with his comforting hand running up the length of her thigh to grope her bottom in appreciation. Up and down, she swallowed what she could of his considerable arousal, using her hand to stroke the rest. The wet trickling of saliva dribbled down his burning member as she sucked greedily, slicking her wrapped fingers as they squeezed and worked. The lonely weights hanging beneath his shaft were next to catch her fancy. After she propped her elbow up on the bone of his hip, she covetously reached for them, fondling the soft balls while she stroked and licked.

Muscles tensing painfully with every scalding sensation tightening in his groin, Sesshoumaru dragged his claws down her legs, careful not to prick her with his building passion. Young mikos were not meant for the sensual violence that youki could easily heal and he struggled to keep his burgeoning desire in check with her every fiery touch. A firm hand grasping her ass, he wrenched her hips close to distract himself from the carnal sensations that brewed below. Shudders of anticipation shook Kagome's body and her stroking motions slowed as he nipped at her thighs, his pinching mouth meandering dangerously toward her unexplored sex. The mystery of how his slippery tongue would feel inundated her mind in a wanton fog, leaving her quivering in excitement and pausing to await his heeding of her need. A displeased snarl snapped her back to reality with a sound slap across her backside to chase it. A pained squeak erupted from her and the blushing school girl resumed her ministrations to his satisfied groans.

Brushing his testing lips over the moist fabric caught within the fleshy slit of her sex, he was swiftly pleased with the hard tremors that shook her body, but that didn't sway her from bathing him with her unfailing mouth or deny him the stroking of her firm hands. Having earned her prize, he sent her trembling gasps into shuddering breathlessness as he loosed his tongue, slipping beneath her fundoushi to have its first taste. Tangy and citrusy, he sampled her folds while his hand stealthily unwound the last shred of clothing that kept her from him. Tossing it away, his prying fingers returned to part her slit further until the dark pink nub of her pleasure revealed itself. Flicking her clit lightly with his tongue, he drove a loud, yearning moan from her, its sound muffled by her busy mouth. With a quickening pace, he ran his tongue back and forth over it, strumming it as her fevered whimpers soared into wrenching sobs of bliss. Squirming hard, she pressed her sex against his mouth, craving more of the molten fire that built and coiled in her core. Answering her churning need, he wrapped his mouth around her offered clit, sucking hard on the swollen bud before pinching it between his lips and tonguing it roughly. She arched hard away from him, frantically gasping for air in the seeming vacuum of the sweltering room.

Red tinges edging his glowing, golden eyes, he tipped her over onto the deep pelt and slid his hips between her legs dripping with desire. Broad and muscular, his well-built back eclipsed her slight torso and he leaned down to plunder her lips. Rough kisses and scraping fangs, he coursed down her body, devouring all that lay in his path. A sharp cry erupted from her as his teeth found her tender nipples, his warm tongue uncaring of her pain as it passed them by.

Soon he reached her ready sex, his forefinger slipping between her slightly parted folds, but never entering any further for fear of harming her with his sharp claw. For this reason she could not be prepared properly and even in the blinding haze of his surging lust, the demon knew his size would be more painful than pleasurable for her if not done right.

"Grab your knees and spread yourself, miko," he asked huskily as his hand stroked his hardened member slowly.

With a nod, she grasped her knees and opened herself wide to him. The blistering torrent of his craving rushed at her trusting sight and he slipped forward, his throbbing member rubbing at her welcoming opening. Sliding in slowly as her flooding sex wrapped tightly around him, Sesshoumaru dipped down to gently kiss her mouth and nuzzle her neck. Lips grazing over the fleshy part of her shoulder, he bit down hard as he leaned his hips in further and pressed toward her center.

An agonizing groan escaped her as the prick of his fangs sunk deep into her shoulder, drawing trickles of crimson as they broke the skin. Wincing under the strain, he slowly squeezed through her snug fit until he pushed through the thin veil flesh whose tearing would usher her into womanhood. With a sigh tainted by the metallic flavor of her blood, he released his bite and kissed away the four points of red that beaded in its place. The dizzying pain in her shoulder dimming, Kagome lay breathless with the filling sensation of his arousal penetrating deep within her, the stretching of her tight walls around it feeling good in comparison to the bite.

Pulling out softly and then thrusting forward, he ground slowly against her with his ears sharp for the telling sounds of her enjoyment. An uncomfortable feeling at first, a heady warmth swelled steadily in her core as the pulsing motion of his hips grew. Loosening more with every retreat, her wanting sex sucked him back in greedily and he dipped down to kiss and nibble at her neck and lips. Reaching around for the rigid muscles of his working back, the school girl dug her nails in to spur him on. Rocking faster and harder, he met her earnest desire with his orderly locks of silver hair slipping down to cascade around them.

Aching pants and fluttering moans grew on her breaths as a scorching heat overwhelmed her body, dappling her in a million droplets of perspiration. Slipping down his ripped torso, sweat trickled as he drove into her with increasing speed, plumbing her depths to satiate his unyielding lust. Then her scratching nails reached down to grab his firm backside, extracting a primal groan from him and nearly alleviating him of his load. Panting heavily, but not ready to finish, he snaked his hand around her back and lifted her up to sit on his thighs. 

With the first push of his hips, Kagome cried out deliriously, his arousal forging into a secretive spot that lit unknown fires in her already burning core. Sobbing moans and wild screams pouring out as her bottom slapped rapidly against his kneeling thighs, the demon's hand slid down to grip her securely at the waist as she bounced wearily upon him. Leaning forward, he nuzzled her hungrily again, sucking hard on the dark nipples of her jiggling breasts. Then, he felt her sex squeeze hard around him as her exhausted body arched in blissful ecstasy. Toes curling in plush fur as frenzied convulsions of rapture coursed through her, she quickly brought Sesshoumaru to a roaring climax that milked him with every wrenching pull.

Shared spasms twitching inside them, they leaned against one another tiredly, heavy breaths warming in each other's ears. Hands gliding over slick skin, they embraced tenderly with a few gentle kisses before reclining onto their sides in the deep pile of his pelt. Sapped of energy and enjoying the moment, sleep soon overcame them in the pleasant warmth of the crackling torches.


	53. Our Story

Chapter Fifty-Three: Our Story

Flickering amber speckling her vision, the multitude of fiery stars illuminating the black glass ceiling reflected warmly in Kagome’s sepia eyes. Lingering in a hypnotic trance, her absently given sight flowed over the brilliant display of mirroring torch lights while she felt feebly for the invisible knot that tightened in her chest. With its tangled web of roots delving deep to shorten her breaths and ache her heart, these strangling threads of worry had woken her from her soothing sleep. Luxuriously soft and clean against her bare skin, the plush pile of ivory fur she was nestled in and the smooth caress of silk layered over her only proved to further swell her crippling anxiety. What had she done?

The tickle of claws trailed by the firm grace of fingers slipped over her flat belly to pause at the curve of her waist, drawing her away from the dazzling, faux sky and to the unavoidable reality that slept at her side. The tired gray beneath his eyes faded and the burgundy of his eyelids richly dark, the sleeping youkai lord met her worried sight as he rested peacefully, breathing evenly in a gentle slumber. Fitful dreams of suffocating, purple fog having evaporated with the bonds of his shame, the demon’s calm countenance held no line of ill-ease while several furrowed her brow.

“You are troubled, miko?” he asked in a smooth baritone, flushing a startled gasp from her lips with his sudden question. Golden eyes opening slowly to reveal the black slits of his pupils, his impassive gaze caught hers and left her with no escape.

“No, I’m fine,” the school girl murmured back, sincerely wishing she could look away to the obsidian sky high above and avoid his inquiring stare that easily saw through her thinly veiled lie.

“Hn,” he snorted after a moment with a lean eyebrow rising slightly with his curiosity before he pressed on as if she had said nothing. “Why are you troubled?”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. Somehow, this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.”

“How what was supposed to happen?”

“This. Us,” she clarified hesitantly, her voice quaking faintly as she attempted to name the cold fear that twisted deep down to her gut. “I thought what we did would be different. I can’t lie. It was wonderful and amazing beyond my imagination, but even so there was something that was missing. Something I expected to be there and it wasn’t. As close as I feel to you and as deeply as I care for you, I don’t think I love you.”

A dark chuckle rumbled softly in his throat at her nervously given admission, its warm ease contrasting sharply with her near stutter. Eyes growing glossy with deeper lines to crease her already worried expression, Kagome met his mild laugh with sheer astonishment, stirring her uncomfortable guilt into a swift boil of unexpected rage with his irreverent attitude to heat it.

“Is that all,” Sesshoumaru remarked coolly, inciting her fury further.

“Is that all?! The first time is supposed to be with the one you love. I don’t love you and now I think I might regret it. And I don’t want to regret it.”

“The unavoidable mortality of your race breeds such foreign customs. Allow me to understand, you believe that in order to share intimacy without regret then you must love that person?”

“I thought I did. But now I’m not so sure.”

“We are not without bonds, miko,” he persuaded, lifting his hand from her slight waist to gently cradle her chin with his fingers. Pale skin luminescent in the flickering of the distant fires, the school girl stared back at the calm, unfettered look of the tai youkai and felt her nervousness ease a bit with his cool assurance. “One could conceivably count our bonds as stronger than anything as simple as love.”

“What we have is stronger than love? How can that be? When we first came here, you tried to kill me and now after a few adventures we have something stronger than what I might share with…”

“With?”

“With someone else,” she evaded with a deep rouge dyeing her cheeks, her sight averting everywhere but to the knowing gaze of the youkai lord beside her. “At any rate, it doesn’t make sense.”

“To a casual observer, perhaps that argument would have merit. Before our time here, we merely knew of each other and what we knew did not place us on the best of terms. However, can you say that you are the same person that you were when you first read the scroll? That you are unchanged by the experiences that you have endured here?”

“I guess you’re right. So much has happened,” Kagome tentatively agreed in near whisper, her thoughts sifting through the different tales and how they had shaped her. With a fresh blush of embarrassment, she considered her earlier ignorance in placing the plight of homeless farmers before the safety of a princess. Lesson learned, she then campaigned with the bold foolishness that she understood what it meant to be compassionate. Misguided altruism leading her march, she sought to challenge the peace of a dragon king and paid well with a still healing cut across her cheek. While these inescapable weights of complicated morality befell her, the hapless school girl could do little but shoulder their consequences. Yet as she was burdened beneath them, she had found strength and wisdom that she could not now imagine being without. The realization of her fruiting maturity ripened in her dark eyes and she returned the gaze of the demon lord, finally understanding what he had already discovered. “I’m not the same, am I? I really have changed.”

“That is for you to decide, not I. Nevertheless, if you have indeed changed so greatly in this meager breadth of time that we have shared within this realm, could it have been possible to do it without establishing bonds? Without relying on another for support and appropriately in turn giving the very same support you have received?”

“I don’t think I could have. You’ve helped me so much and in ways no one else has even tried. You didn’t hold my hand, but you were at my side. Maybe that’s what I always needed and never had. Someone who didn’t keep me from falling, but who was there to catch me if I did. And I think even though you’d never admit to it, it’s what you needed too.”

“Hn,” he snorted with a supercilious air.

“Still, with everything that has happened,” she continued, concealing her smirking amusement at his dismissive attitude behind the inevitable gravity of her next question. “What will happen to us when everything is over? What’s going to happen to our bond when we’re no longer traveling through the scroll?”

“Every story has its beginning, middle and end, miko. We are no different for when we finish our journey here another awaits us and one we are not meant to share.”

“I thought so.”

“Are you disappointed?”

“No, to tell you the truth. Instead, I’m actually a little relieved,” she admitted with a nervous laugh before dwelling on the earlier words of his reasoning that reminded her of a wise, old, fruit merchant who spoke of something similar. “The monk asked me before I got on the boat what my story was and the more that I think about it now; I believe he really meant our story.”

“Our story?”

“Yeah, our story. This is it, isn’t it? Locked in the scroll, we play the roles of heroes in each of the seven fairytales, but beyond that, there’s another story. The story of our journey here and what we learn and how we grow as we travel.”

“Hn.”

“We have to enjoy the journey while it lasts, because one day it will be finished and all we’ll have are the memories,” she continued sagely, sliding over to rest her head of tousled ebony tresses against the dip between his broad shoulder and chest. Lying on her side and against the warm skin of his torso, Kagome ran her fingers playfully through the groomed, silver hairs of his muscular chest. “That’s why I don’t want to regret it and why I won’t be sad when it’s over. I want those memories to cherish. To hold inside and to remember fondly on rainy days, you know?”

“To treasure for the brief time you have it?” he added, recalling a quote of wisdom his great-grandsire had imparted to him. “And then treasure the memory for the years that follow?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I believe not enough has been accomplished to warrant a proper memory to be so well honored.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have received one moment of intimacy in exchange for thirty-five of my years. This Sesshoumaru does not care to be swindled and I should demand at least one for each year given.”

“Wait… What?!” she stuttered as she sorted through his remark, his chest reverberating with his subtle laughter against her blushing, pressed cheek. “How many times for how many years?!”

“Thirty-five, miko.”

“I hope you don’t want it right now. Maybe in a little while when I’m less sore and--”

“I am being facetious,” he interrupted with another chuckle, his comforting hand leaving her chin to slip over her narrow shoulder and down her stretched arm before resting affectionately on her hand that still lay contentedly on his chest.

“That wasn’t funny,” she scolded seriously; however with her attempted sternness fading swiftly to a light giggle, the school girl only invited another quiet laugh from the demon. Diminishing to satisfied sighs, their amusement receded into silent thoughtfulness while the whispers of ever-burning torches inundated the air. Behind his unexpected attempt at humor, the tai youkai had revealed a fact that Kagome had scarcely wondered if she would ever discover. “Thirty-five years. So, that’s how long I was on the island waiting for you?”

“Yes.”

“That seems like such an impossible amount of time. I can’t even imagine how I spent twice my lifetime alone and waiting.”

“Hn.”

“Will you tell me what I was like?” she then asked shyly, biting her lip nervously as she pressed her fortune a bit further. “Who was I when you found me on the beach after all that time?” Haunting as they glimmered in the flickering light, Sesshoumaru’s gaze rose to the black ceiling overhead with her lingering questions reflecting in his thoughts like the delicate flames reflected across the carved arches of glass. A long, burgeoning silence brewed to stifle the massive hall, leaving her to wait with unabated hope for his reply and only the sound of his rhythmic heartbeat to console her yearning ears.

“You were the island,” he replied at last with a nearly imperceptible and wistful sigh to follow it.

“That’s it?”

“Yes. You were the strength of its peaks and the wildness of its untamed jungles. You were as timeless as its sands with only silvered hair to betray your age and your power was as endless as the ocean that broke upon it. You were beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she murmured shakily at the unanticipated compliment, the salty taste of her relief building in her throat while she attempted to quell the impending sobs that she knew she couldn’t stop. Streams trickling down her cheeks, she rubbed her face soothingly against the side of his chest as she shuddered lightly. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Soon, the comforting prickle of claws stroking her hand quieted her voiceless weeping. Lifting her head as she sniffled the last of her grateful tears away, she spied up at him with her reddened eyes and smiled gently.

“Hn,” he snorted. “Are you ready, miko?”

“Yes,” she answered with a nod, but remained nestled in her comfy spot until he decided to sit up to deprive her of it. Brushing away his crimson and white coat that had proven a welcome blanket as they had slept, the tai youkai found his footing and stood up in the golden-hued light.

“Hm, you seem to be decidedly unready,” he observed aloud with a raised brow, his sight traveling appreciatively over her blushing nudity still cradled in his piled fur.

“I am,” she mildly lied, before enjoying the softness of the deep pelt with one last writhing stretch. A strange look gracing his features as she delighted in the downy fluff quickly spurred her to her feet with renewed embarrassment over her indulgence. “All right. All right. Let’s go.”

“Let us hope.”

Together they gathered their strewn clothing, taking turns as they slowly adorned each other. The cool caress of fabric and the tickle of busy fingers ghosting over skin, they wound fundoushis and pulled on pants. They tucked in haori coats and slipped into tunics. They weighted his shoulders with black, oiled leather and wove his elaborate gold and navy obi belt around his waist. Summoning his aura, the youkai connected once more with his pelt as the school girl waited patiently with his heavy swords scooped carefully in her arms. Then with the loud clack of geta sandals and the soft tap of boots, they were dressed.

“Where is the plaque?” Sesshoumaru asked, sliding his weapons securely into the sash at his hip.

“Right here,” Kagome answered after a moment, bending down to pick up the thin, obsidian plate once lost in the sea of like stone that made the smooth floor. Turning it over in her hand, she found the etched kanji that told the next lines of the poem. “Lonely bamboo cutter cuts. A brilliant light reveals.”

“Tiny princess wakes,” he continued, reading the poetry over her shoulder as he came to stand behind her. “To his home she is welcomed. Her beauty unmatched.”

“Knights assemble for her hand. Impossible gifts are sought.”

“An emperor's lust. Messenger of moon rescues. Fly home in the night.”

With the final words spoken, the plaque shattered into glittering, blue dust and the soft radiance of moonlight filtered through the crack between the broad, iron doors of the fortress’ entrance. Walking toward the waiting fairytale and their last adventure, they paused in their steps as they approached the blocked way. 

“This is it, isn’t it? The final one?”

“Yes.”

“We’re doing it together like always.”

“Without doubt, miko.”

Then after exchanging a nod, they each pressed their palms against a heavy door and pushed.


	54. The Moon Child

Chapter Fifty-Four: The Moon Child

A soft, cool light filtered through the opaque fog of the school girl’s dreams, lifting her gently from a peaceful and unexpected sleep. Fluttering open, her sepia eyes peeked out at the curious radiance while dull pains along the length of her body further spurred her into consciousness. A vanishing spiral of stairs cascading into the darkness welcomed her perplexed sight and she looked around as she carefully moved to sit upon one of the many steps that were biting into her side. Following the coiling stairs up, her gaze rose to find them endlessly climbing along the walls of the cylindrical tower she awoke in.

The impenetrable darkness both above and below reminding her of its oddity, Kagome wondered of the gentle luminescence that seemed to be centered on her. No lamps or torches hung on the smooth, wooden walls and as her sight searched, she soon found her answer in the palms of her hands. In a pure hue of a nameless color, her hands glowed softly and she turned them back and forth as she stared on with a mesmerized fascination. Before long, the school girl tugged at the hems of her clothes and wherever her skin was revealed, she was greeted with the same radiance.

“I’m glowing everywhere,” she whispered in amazement while gawking at her freshly unsheathed and curling toes that appeared like little, wriggling lights. “Why am I glowing?” The last lines of the poem drifted through her thoughts while she pondered with words such as bamboo-cutter, princess and moon tarrying in her mind longer than others. “This is the fairytale of The Bamboo Cutter and the Moon Child. It has to be. And if that’s so, who am I this time?”

Pulling on her travel-stained socks and sliding her feet into her worn sandals, Kagome stood up on a step with her steadying hand seeking the gradually curving wall. Pale tan with a hint of youthful green, the straight, variegated grains of the wood coursed vertically under the revealing light of her touch. Massive in size, but undeniable in nature, it could only be bamboo and if she was inside a shoot of it then that meant she could only have one role in this story. She was the moon child.

With one realization came another as she looked about nervously in the limited light bordered by reaching shadows. The strangeness of the new tale complicated by her slowly receding grogginess had mired her thoughts and only then had she noticed the absence of a very important demon.

“Sesshoumaru-sama!” the school girl called out, his name echoing with growing faintness in the chilly air. A myriad of reasons and questions rose as she began to climb the stairs in her worry. Had he woken before her and went exploring? Had he left all together? Was he even here to begin with? Never before had the scroll separated them in the beginning, but that didn’t mean that it couldn’t. Even with that aside, there was the exchange of important roles continuing between them. If she played the title character of Momotaro in the last fairytale and now the equally significant part of Kaguya-hime, the banished princess of the moon, who was Sesshoumaru meant to play? Could he be the bamboo-cutter?

Enthusiasm quickening her stride, Kagome scaled the elegantly carved steps with her own radiance guiding the way. Each shoe met the floor with a resounding clack as she ran, the swift volley of their echoing sounds eventually slowing as her rapid heartbeats grew in their place. Sweat beading on her forehead and her throat raw, she finally came to a begrudging stop while attempting to catch her breath. Still, determination remained hardened in the school girl’s eyes with her unwavering gaze keeping the next steps of the seemingly eternal spire in focus as she rested for a moment.

Then stealing her much needed breath, a muffled, rustling noise whispered from beyond the curved planes of bamboo. Pressing her ear close as she sprawled herself against the wall, Kagome listened on silently as the swishing continued. Quiet at first, a melodious tune soon accompanied the mysterious rustle, growing clearer and louder with every sung lyric. Stopping abruptly in the middle of the chorus, the emptiness of stark silence was swift to take the up the song thereafter, but not without the muted crinkling of dried leaves to interrupt it.

Exacting a startled squeak from her lips, the stairs pitched beneath the school girl’s feet as the bamboo shoot she was trapped within swayed to and fro. Crumpling down to her knees so that she could cling to the lip of the step ahead, she waited with wide eyes and eager hope for what she knew was coming next. Then with a loud crack, an enormous, nicked blade of black metal came eagerly slicing over her head, sending fine shavings of bamboo fluttering around her when it passed.

Spying up as the shuddering spire slowly stilled, Kagome was greeted by the speckled brilliance of the night sky eclipsed in places by clusters of delicate branches of bamboo. Black without the warmth of the sun, the thin limbs themselves were soon blocked by the giant silhouette of a man with a machete balanced lightly on his shoulder.

“Sesshoumaru-sama?” she asked hesitantly, biting at her lip as the figure leaned in to get a better look at her.

“Sesshoumaru?” an old, gruff voice remarked thoughtfully. “What an ominous and cruel name to give a person. I should hope such a frighteningly named man is not nearby.”

“I’m sorry about that. May I ask who you are?”

“I am but a humble bamboo-cutter, dear child. I was collecting bamboo from this forest to craft into furniture when I saw this strange shoot glowing brightly in the dim starlight. It is to my amazement that I should cut it and find such a precious and tiny girl within.”

“Oh,” the school girl murmured, the icy flow of evening air spurring her to rub her crossed arms with her hands as she tried to think of what she should do next.

“Are you cold? The night is chill this time of year.”

“I’m fine. There’s just a little bit of a breeze.”

“Then allow me to take you home to my wife. She is quite dutiful and you may enjoy some hot tea to warm you up.”

“I am grateful, but my friend is still missing and he might not be able to find me if I leave.”

“Alas, it is your fate to accompany me, my dear child as it was my fate to find you here among a million stalks of bamboo. Please do not deny my role to aid you and yours to join me. If your friend is meant to find you, he shall.”

“All right,” Kagome acquiesced after a long, pensive moment, standing up carefully as the knobby and creased hand of the elderly man lowered down gently to the rim of her severed, bamboo tower. Finishing the last few steps, she slipped off her geta sandals and toted them in her hand while she walked onto the leathery flesh of the bamboo-cutter’s bony palm.

“You are a brave young lady,” he complimented with a warm, sparsely-toothed smile and then pulled her close against his chest. The softness of weathered, woven threads met her as his cupped hand pressed tightly against his patched, haori coat like a pocket. Grasping his thumb with her small hands as she stood on her toes, the school girl peered out ahead as he ambled through the maze of bamboo. Mouth bent in a pout, she looked on with marked frustration as her soft luminescence kept her eyes from adjusting to the low light of night.

“I hope I’m not as bothersome to you as I am to myself,” she apologized moodily. “I’m like a firefly over here.”

“Your light is quite wonderful and it lifts my spirits to see it. I could never be bothered by its brilliance, but honored instead.”

Blushing lightly, the school girl said nothing more of it as the hobbled stride of the old bamboo-cutter continued. With the silvery plume of a burning, hearth fire blurring the clear lines of the towering foliage ahead, the sprawling, dense woods quickly opened up into a tended meadow with a modest cottage nestled in its center. Worn and stained by time, the frail hovel built from ancient timbers stood dismally gray against the lushness of the surrounding bamboo forest. Up the dirt path rutted by rain, the old man strolled toward his house until the hollow claps of his sandals sounded on the short set of stairs leading to the porch. Standing before the entrance, the gnarled fingers of his free hand reached out and he grasped the shallow handle of the sliding door. Pulling it stubbornly down its track, the timeworn planks of wood and rice paper slid disagreeably, jerking and scraping while it glided open.

“Love, is that you?” the raspy voice of an old woman called out as the bamboo-cutter stepped over the threshold and slipped out of his sweat-stained, geta sandals.

“Yes,” he replied warmly, lifting the sheathed machete secured in his belt and setting it delicately against the wall by the doorway. “And I have brought us a guest.”

“Have you?” she asked, rising from her crouch behind the popping fire she had been stoking. Clothed in a simple kimono of subdued blues, the hunched woman patted the dust and ash from her knees and hastily approached. With experienced fingers, she undressed the man of his labor and tools, setting the bundle of harvested bamboo he bore on his back in its place by his carpentry implements. Sighing deeply with the weights of his livelihood relieved from his aching shoulders, the bamboo-cutter gave his dutiful wife a tender peck on her cheek when she returned. “Not in front of the guest, you old fool,” she chided with blush warming her wrinkled cheeks and a coy smile hinting at her thin lips.

“I cannot help it. Your beauty always misplaces my manners when you are near.”

“Old fool,” she whispered back under her breath, shaking her head in pleasant resignation as he chuckled lightly in his amusement. “Now, where is this guest, so that in the hopes that your manners do return, I may be introduced properly?”

“Right here,” the elderly man answered, removing his still cupped hand from the security of his chest. “I discovered this lovely girl in a stalk of bamboo and brought her here before the cold air got to her.”

“She is beautiful,” she sighed, spying the glowing, young girl cradled in his palm. “What shall we do? So delicate and radiant a creature should not be left alone to the elements.”

“We are without child all of these years and now one has been graciously delivered to us. We can only do one thing with such a blessing. We will accept her as our daughter and care for her. She will be our little princess.”

“Is it me,” Kagome wondered softly with hushed words, “Or does every barren, elderly couple end up with tiny children as a blessing in these fairytales.”

“You needn’t be tiny for long,” the bamboo-cutter replied, eliciting a surprised gasp from the school girl with his sensitive ears. “You only need to step from my palm and you shall grow.”

“I’ll be tall again?”

“You will be as you are meant to be.”

“I suppose that would be good too.”

Kneeling down slowly, the old man laid his up-turned hand on the smooth planks of the wooden floor. Nervousness coursing through her limbs, she fidgeted before the waiting step of magic that normally brought some sort of extravagant embarrassment upon her. Gulping down her anxiety and rubbing her gently glowing hands together, Kagome summoned her resolve and with one final, bolstering sigh, she leapt off her perch. Enveloping her with the familiar swirl of blue sparkles, peeking glimpses of a shrinking world met her eyes through the dazzling brilliance of magic. Then it all dissipated like dying embers as her feet came to land unsteadily, but surely on the ground.

The lusterless, wood floor rippled with her incandescent touch, morphing into polished designs of expertly molded bamboo. The wrinkle of her presence continued beyond the floors, healing the plaster of the walls to rim them with mahogany and to paint stunning murals upon their panels. Each room stretched as it was adorned with brass lamps and fine scrolls, becoming a lavish mansion before the school girl’s eyes.

“Wow,” she murmured her amazement which swiftly grew when the returning tingle of magic swarmed her body. The feel of her dusty tunic tightened and loosened in differing places, with the roughness of the cotton smoothing to the sleekness of silk. Long sleeves poured to the floor with the detailed pattern of a shimmering night sky and delicate blooms of jasmine embellishing the fine fabric. A conjured, fuchsia obi tightened around her abdomen with an intricate bow to bind it at her back. 

Straightening and curling of its own volition, Kagome’s long, wavy hair broke from its tie at the back of her head to float weightlessly around her. The musical tinkling of glass and shells sung as glimmering hairpins with dangling ends and exquisitely crafted combs materialized in the air. The quiet sound of swishing, ebony tresses broken by the occasional whimper of pain ensued as her hair parted and looped into elaborate buns secured with the long needles so finely decorated. Leaving a few locks to fall naturally around her face and down her back, the magic dispersed and she reached up hesitantly to feel the flawless work it had done.

“Be careful not to ruin your hair, dear daughter,” the elderly woman warned sweetly, her once tattered clothing now as rich as hers. “The knights are tirelessly seeking a mere glance of your beauty. If they should be so fortunate, you should not disappoint them.”

“The knights?”

“The suggestion of your matchless splendor spreads quick and these suitors have appeared for your hand in matrimony should you choose to entertain such a thought.”

“Matrimony?”

“Yes,” the bamboo-cutter replied, dressed in equal finery as his wife. “Our hearts will weep should you decide to take one as your husband, but we shall not stop you. For you to share your presence with us for but a moment has been wonderful beyond words.”

“Where are these knights?”

“Over here, but you must keep quiet or else they will notice you.”

“All right.”

Cracking the ornate shutter open a sliver, he stepped back to allow her a glimpse outside. Taking tiny steps in her restricting dress, Kagome soon peered out into the well groomed courtyard. Dressed in the elegant armor of ancient nobility, five men stood eagerly on the stone-tiled ground, scanning the massive castle for even a silhouette of their passion. Fraught with boredom and general distaste, one man appeared markedly less enthused than the rest. Under a cloud of white blossoms and haloed in long, silver hair, the missing tai youkai leaned against the narrow trunk of a plum tree with the soft moonlight showering upon him. Throwing the doors open so hard that they nearly bounced back to hit her, the school girl leaned out the window, deaf to the stunned gasps and flustered scolding erupting all around her.

“Sesshoumaru-sama!”


	55. Quests for the Knights

Chapter Fifty-Five: Quests for the Knights

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" Kagome called out again, the sparkle of her luminescent grin shimmering as if stars on a clear, summer night. The quiet commotion continued to stir with gasps of excitement and murmurs of unremitting adoration serving as the waves which rumbled below her. Silent and seemingly unaffected, the youkai lord stepped out from beneath the soft plumes of blossom-laden branches and spied up at the jubilant miko. Glowing above him with the brilliant radiance of moonlight reflecting on the rippling surface of a lake, Sesshoumaru stared up in subtle amazement at the finely adorned woman he could scarcely recognize. His nearly imperceptibly wider eyes and slightly raised brows lost to her in the distance, she leaned out further with her freshly painted nails gripping the window sill. "Sesshoumaru-sama! Over here!"

"Yes, my love," another voice answered candidly before the tai youkai could reply. Hair bound in a high ponytail and harnessed in gold trimmed armor lacquered in bright red, one of the knights stepped forward confidently, flashing a smile of victory at the other suitors. "As your Lord Sesshoumaru, I have come for you as declared so that we may wed. Fear not our joining, for I shall spoil you with countless treasures and riches from my many conquests. You shall know what it means to be a true princess."

"Hn. Imposter," a dark voice accused in a growl at the man's back, petrifying the crimson knight in his steps. "Your claims are pure deceit at best. I am Lord Sesshoumaru and that beautiful maiden speaks only to me. She shall accept my hand in marriage and no other's"

"Ha, it is you who lies, not I," the knight contested boldly; his betraying sweat beading at his hairline as he peered slowly over his shoulder at his denouncer. Swathed in black to hide the stains of blood, a thickly muscled man bearing the scars of battle glared with a splintered chicken bone protruding from his lips. Cascading around his shoulders, coarse, black hair framed his venomous look, their different lengths shorn by the blades of his enemies who were now no more than food for crows.

"Are you calling me a liar?

"You're the one who first accused me of deceit. What is your proof that you should be allowed to proclaim that I am deceitful and you are not?"

"This endless cycle of ridiculousness is tiresome. Would you both concede that you are neither Lord Sesshoumaru," a proud voice steeped with conceit interrupted. "I am he and your incessant bickering hurts my ears. This beauty wishes for me and rightly so she should." Disgruntlement souring their expressions, they turned to find the polished white of the knight who had spoken with polite contempt. "I am who the moon princess beckons as she no doubt recognizes the privilege she has been given to share my company in this moment."

Pure of imperfection, the smug knight stood clad in white armor detailed with ivory and with a long, intricate braid trailing down from his head to his lower back. A permanent sneer creased his handsome face as he looked down on his quieting contemporaries with profound satisfaction.

"Somehow, I would wager that you are no different than they are," a fourth voice confided with an even tone unmatched in blatant indifference. The anxious men eyed each other nervously before turning their attention toward the knight behind them and near the soft beauty of the blooming plum tree. Weighted with heavy, navy armor and lost in a blue haze of smoke, a bald man stood casually. Burning orange at the tip, a long pipe balanced naturally in his mouth as he took the blade of a dagger across his scalp. With care, he dragged the edge along the contours of his skull, leaving neither a hair nor a nick in its path.

"In that case, are you next to proclaim that you are this Lord Sesshoumaru?"

"If I was Lord Sesshoumaru, I would feel no compulsion in revealing it to either of you. She knows who I am and there is no purpose in boasting for fools."

"If that is the true," the black knight remarked, "Then wouldn't that man back there be Lord Sesshoumaru and not you?" The four heads turned at once to examine the final knight with long, silver hair and a still tongue. Silence permeated the air as they poured over the illusion of golden armor that only they could see. A perturbed wrinkle found the demon's brow as the other knights sized him up, but he could see no reason in punishing conjurations for their crafted ignorance.

"Nah," they scoffed in unison and instantly leveled harsh glares upon each other with their simultaneous agreement. Heated arguments broke a moment later as the men spewed elaborate proclamations of ownership over the stolen name and attempted to disprove their competitors.

"None of you are him!" Kagome yelled vehemently from the window with her arms akimbo in her wrath. Potentially caught in their deceit, the knights quieted to held breaths before her outburst. Satisfied that she had sufficiently procured their attention, the school girl's hand then shot up with a finger pointing unerringly toward the wordless, demon lord behind them all. "He's Lord Sesshoumaru."

"Ha, she's pointing to me! I am victorious!" the red knight announced cheerfully with a triumphant laugh to follow. Another roar of argument churned amidst the knights with none listening to any words but those they spoke.

Disappearing from the window while cursing softly under her breath about obtuse and self-involved men, Kagome stormed down the hall and toward the entrance. A firm hand caught her wrist as she passed, jarring her from her determination to enlighten her unsuitable suitors.

"You cannot go outside, dear daughter," the bamboo-cutter warned, his grip tightening with her look of defiance.

"Why not?"

"The magic has bound you within this house. Princess Kaguya does not leave her home here in such a way, thus you are barred from escaping. You must calm down for there is nothing else to be done."

"Those men are a bunch of liars and someone needs to set them straight."

"They are intended to be liars," the elderly woman spoke up, stepping forward to gently break the hold the old man still held on the school girl. "Do you not remember this tale and what those cowardly knights accomplished?"

"They were given tasks to prove their love, weren't they?" Kagome asked, calming down as she thought back on the famous fairytale. "They had to seek priceless treasures that could only be found after a long journey and difficult battles. They had to prove they were worthy of the moon princess' hand in marriage."

"Correct and do they?"

"No, they all failed. They were all intimidated by the seemingly impossible tasks and instead they resorted to making facsimiles of each treasure. Despite their efforts, they were all found out eventually."

"Precisely, so how can you expect more of them? Deceivers in the story and therefore deceivers here."

"So, what's going to happen?"

"I shall receive them and dictate their tasks, of course," the bamboo-cutter replied with a smirk and stepped toward the door.

"Even though they'll fail, you'll still give them their tasks?"

"There might be one who will surprise us."

"If there's a chance that that can happen," she concluded quickly as the old man slipped on his sandals, "Can I ask you to give the silver-haired one a particular quest?"

"As long as it is in keeping with the tale."

"It is. Don't worry."

OOOOOOOOOO

The cacophony of their fierce debates and assertions having reduced to whispered grumbles and foul looks, the knights milled about the courtyard as they waited. With impatience and discontent brewing in the dull murmur surrounding him, Sesshoumaru remained unmoved and generally unimpressed. It was at the bottom of a long flight of stone steps that the scroll had deigned to deliver him from the previous tale. Seeing no other course more apparent, the youkai lord had climbed them only to arrive here and in the company of these absurd men. Then after deducing that he shared the same occupation as they, he knew that his role in this unknown fairytale would make itself evident soon enough.

His acute hearing serving him well, the demon lord listened absently to the muffled argument being waged within the mansion. Its context lost to thick, wood walls, he could hear it swiftly settle into a few agreeable words and end with the sharp click of a lock unlatching. 

The heavy, double doors swung apart and out stepped a diminutive man, his body bent at the shoulders and his hands clasped comfortably behind his back. Disappointed sighs swelled in the air at the bamboo-cutter's appearance as the princess' brief emergence earlier had breathed in them hope for another glimpse. Creaking boards and creaking knees, the old man gradually made his way down the stairs, his aching joints voicing their perennially scorned complaints with every jarring step. Collectively spying a previously overlooked opportunity, the four capricious knights soon rushed forward to aid him down the remaining steps. Bickering at each other more than helping, the incensed bamboo-cutter swatted and cursed at the eager men who now impeded his way.

"I will throw the whole lot of you out if you do not go back where you were," he growled, yanking hard on the ponytail of the red knight who had knelt down to pick him up in his boldness. "And I mean it this time!"

Scrambling back to their appointed posts in the courtyard, the rebuked knights looked away in their embarrassment as the elderly man leveled an irritated glare on each one of them. Satisfied that there was order once more, he continued his steady course until the clap of his sandals met the stone tiles of the yard. With a discerning eye, a hard lip and a tediously slow stride, the unhurried bamboo-cutter looked over each fidgeting man as he paced. However, his ambling gait ended when he came to the cool and imperceptible knight with long, silver hair. The scrutinizing gaze of the man pouring over him far longer than it had over the others, the tai youkai stared back with an even expression, sublimating his building annoyance behind the ease of his usual, indifferent facade.

"Hn," the bamboo-cutter finally snorted after a long moment and then directed his sight over the rest. "Men of great repute and bravery, I stand before you humbled by the strength of your devotion to my daughter. Weeks have passed since your arrivals and in that time neither of you have sought food or sleep as you have waited patiently for the chance to meet her. Believe me when I say that she has not been blind to your many sacrifices for her hand in marriage. It is quite the opposite since it is in the light of your recent devotions that Princess Kaguya has decided to grant each of you tasks. Should you accomplish what she asks, then she has promised to not only hear you, but to accept your proposal."

"Let us hear them, my soon to be father-in-law," the white knight asked brashly, a smug smile playing on his lips. Joining boasts of confidence rolled through the group broken with accents of laughter. "What could our sheltered maiden possibly desire?"

"Do not treat these tasks frivolously," he warned darkly as the men continued to make light of quests that could satisfy the sensibilities of a shy noblewoman. "She is not as simple as you believe and what she asks will truly test the mettle of your love."

"Then reveal them so that they experience their deserved defeat swifter and so that I can begin preparations for welcoming my new bride into my home," the navy knight remarked coolly, breathing curling wisps of smoke as he spoke.

"Very well," the elderly man conceded. "Then I shall tell you first. The moon princess would ask you to bring the stone bowl from India which once belonged to Buddha."

"Wh-What?!" he coughed loudly and abruptly, choking on the smoke escaping from his lungs. "She wants me to go all the way to India to do what?!"

"Next," he continued, ignoring the disbelieving words of the sputtering, blue knight. His shifting gaze fell to the cocksure, white knight that was unabashedly delighting in his rival's bad luck. It would be at least a five year voyage and that was even if he was successful in acquiring such a sacred treasure. "Your quest will be to journey to Mount Horai rumored to exist somewhere in the Eastern Sea. There you are asked to climb to its summit and to pluck a branch from the tree of gold and silver that grows there."

"Mount Horai?!" the knight exclaimed shrilly at the name of the mythical place. "How can I be asked to go to a place that is no more than legend? No one has ever found Mount Horai let alone climbed to its summit!"

"Then your love shall give you the courage to be the first."

"At least India exists," the navy knight spoke up solemnly, inwardly grateful for at least that.

"Third knight," the bamboo-cutter went on, leaving the white knight to wallow alone in his ramblings. Ahead of him now stood the black knight who had chewed up his chicken bone in his nervousness even as he feigned his typically hard and vicious exterior. "It is asked that you search for the dragon that carries a stone radiating five colors upon its head. She desires the jewel and will welcome you should you return with it."

"A dragon?" the knight asked anxiously, swallowing hard on what remained of his chicken bone as visions of giant, reptilian beasts breathing fire floated through his imagination.

"Yes and a big one."

"What is mine?!" the red knight demanded enthusiastically, undaunted by the grim adventures given to the others.

"Yours is fairly simple. You must seek the swallow that carries a shell on its breast. The princess desires the shell and will reward you with her hand in marriage should you acquire it."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

"Can I not get one more exciting?"

"I will exchange tasks with you if you desire a bit more stimulation than catching a bird," the white knight offered smoothly. With his suggestion, the red knight was quickly swarmed by the other two men, each promising more treasure and land over the others if he would only trade with them instead.

"There will be no exchanging!" the elderly man decreed sternly. "You have your quests, so now be gone. If you are not expedient in your travels, another may return before you and know success despite your efforts." One warning was all that was necessary and the four men hastily fled the courtyard to begin their ill-fated journeys, leaving the silver-haired knight alone with the bamboo-cutter.

"And my task?" Sesshoumaru asked evenly once they were alone, his arm crossed against his chest as he awaited the difficult pursuit that was no doubt soon to be uttered by the old man.

"She requested that this quest be specifically spared for you. I do not know why this one, but if it suits you, then you should be pleased."

"Hn."

"The moon princess would like you to travel to China and acquire a hide of firerat fur."

"Hn," he snorted again, thinking of the bright red clothes that his younger brother often wore. It was clever of her to set this task aside for him considering that Inuyasha must have acquired his coat and pants from some place and that he as a sibling might know specifically where. Unfortunately, the truth behind the mystery of those garments had never been revealed to either of them. Their father and the hanyou's mother had died before they could be asked.

"She believes in you," the old man spoke up, drawing the youkai lord from his thoughts. "Otherwise, she would have never have asked something so specific for you."

"I know."

"Do not disappoint her."

The bamboo-cutter turned his back and headed toward the castle before the tai youkai could reply. Perplexed and annoyed by the assumption that he could fail, Sesshoumaru walked toward the entrance of the courtyard which now proved an exit. Glimmering, golden eyes haunting in the gentle moonlight, he looked to the sky and more importantly to the North Star and to the approaching sunrise in the east. China was west and thus he would need to flee from the pink tinges of the creeping dawn. Wafting breezes swelling into whipping gusts, youki swirled at his feet as he prepared for the long flight.

"Hey, Do-Gu!" a voice called out, dissipating the demon lord's aura along with his concentration. Down at the base of the long flight of steps that he had climbed earlier, an ancient looking man and his produce cart waited on the rutted, dirt road. "It's been a while."


	56. Fathers and Mothers

Chapter Fifty-Six: Fathers and Mothers

Towering at the crest of the stone stairs, the tai youkai stared down at the frail monk who now beckoned him with the casual wave of his gnarled hand. Unmoved by the continuing welcome, Sesshoumaru remained where he stood, as exclusive to the old, fruit vendor as the eternal night overhead was to the graying dawn in the east. In his eyes, the old man and his produce cart were dyed in unsavory tones, serving as potent reminders of his brief interlude in the indulgences of shame and weakness. A rare few had ever encountered him in such a pathetic state and this monk had known him in no other fashion. Yet, it was with that silently-drawn conclusion that the sincerity of the youkai lord's concern jarred in his rational mind and permitted his swift feet their chance at defiance. 

Beginning the descent to the wagon below, he stepped without reservation, now acutely aware of the audacious thoughts that had previously sought to intimidate him. The old man simply smiled while he approached, neither fearful nor condescending, but instead retaining an easy comfort. The final step behind him, the tai youkai stopped beside the cart.

"Is there no tale that denies you entrance beyond its boundaries?" Sesshoumaru asked evenly, eyeing the perpetually reappearing monk and his rickety wagon.

"If there is a road for me to travel, then I may trespass where I like," the man replied with a broadening, sparsely-toothed grin, his dark eyes bright and kind even in the dim moonlight. "Normally, I intrude less than I have recently, but guests such as you and the recent Momotaro-sama are a growing rarity in this realm."

"Guests such as us?"

"Travelers," he elaborated, "Friendliness can only be found with one prisoner here and while conjurations can make for entertaining company, it is refreshing to speak with new people on occasion."

"Are you a prisoner as well?"

"In a way. I suppose you were soundly asleep when I explained my past to your companion. She and I played the same roles at one time, but I was dealt far worse luck. A traveler who dies here never completes the poem and is thus imprisoned by the magic."

"You perished?"

"Only of old age. The scroll does not allow for any other death."

"Hn, the island," the demon remarked, concluding naturally about where the old man most likely met his end.

"Yes."

"Then, you informed her of the truth of that fairytale, did you not?"

"Not how you might believe. With respect to your decision of silence, I only told her my sordid story. She figured out her missing past on her own."

"Indeed."

"Whatever she did after our parting at the dock was her choice and in my boldness I have to say that she was uncommonly fortunate that you returned when you did. Humans only live so long."

"That was not her fortune. Sparing her of your fate lies with the princess beneath the sea and not with I. My expedited return pales beside the decision of Oto-hime to release me early. Without it, mortality surely would have claimed the miko." Finished with all he had to say on the subject, Sesshoumaru turned on his heel, ready to begin his journey to the west once more. The first drafts of youki fluttered the bottoms of his tucked pants and his sight rose to meet the jagged horizon of the bamboo forest.

"Wait, I am not finished," the monk spoke up, his rough, aged voice interrupting the youkai lord's concentration. "I have more to discuss with you."

"I have no need to hear anything further from you."

"How can you judge that to be true if you will not listen? This is the second time in the many years since my stranding that a human has come here."

"I am leaving."

"And the first time was with the last visitor."

"A human ventured here with my father?" the tai youkai wondered aloud, the old man finally piquing his elusive interest and the aura whipping at his boots dispersed in the air. Throughout his travels here, hints of his father's journey and his mysterious guest had been whispered, but none had been more than passing thoughts, leaving him with more questions than answers.

"If he was the last of your clan to use the scrolls then it was he. Many demons belonging to Lord Shiro's family have filtered through this place, but when I encountered her, I was amazed."

"Her?"

"Yes, a woman. I remember that well, because as an ancient apparition who was once human, I cannot forget the details of another such as her. Even now, the countless tears that she had shed over your father's illness will not abate in my memories."

"His illness?"

"Oto-hime kept him for far longer than you. Twice your time passed before her rarely-given mercy released him so that he could return to save his companion. In the sixth tale when I met her as Lord Momotaro and he as Do-Gu, he was in far worse condition than you were. Plagued with fevers and fitful sleep, days passed without him reaching consciousness. Eventually when he was well enough to wake, he still spent weeks in the home of the elderly couple and under her vigilant care."

"Hn."

"Together, they defeated the ogres of Oni Island. I cannot believe that she did much of the fighting, but not all victorious battles are aided with a sword alone. In this fairytale, he received the same quest as you and fought valiantly for her."

"Why tell me this?" 

"The temptation of the genuine in a world of chained gods and stale magic," the man sighed, absently fiddling with the leather reins cradled in his hands. "True heroism and affection are scarcities, so after witnessing their many struggles and the growing strength of their love, I now must know. I have a selfish request that warmly reminds me of how much of my humanity still wanders here. I knew that your companion would not be old enough to know it, but if you are his son, then you might. Guided by your generosity, I pray that you will reveal to me what became of them when they left." 

Burgeoning silence swelled as the tai youkai quietly held the expectant man's gaze, knowing only a harsh truth. With the monk's confession, he now understood his own past better and it was not a tale of triumph and contentment. Undoubtedly still weakened by his sacrifice here, the fatal injuries done to his father in his final battle against Ryukotsusei had become clearer. How could he have wholly defeated that vile dragon when he could barely stand not long before? Then with his father dead, Inuyasha's mother had accompanied the inu general in the hereafter a short time later. While tragedy weighted his tongue, the youkai lord saw hope in the monk's eyes and a need to connect with a world that was real, if only for a moment.

"She bore him a son," Sesshoumaru finally answered, watching the old man's eyes gloss with his reply. "He is my younger half-brother.

"They had a child and he was a boy?"

"Yes."

"That is good. That is so very good. I am pleased beyond words and you have my deepest gratitude for your consideration. You are an exemplary member of your clan for which Lord Shiro could only be proud."

"I must depart now."

"Of course, I will not delay you further," the monk quickly said, bowing repeatedly and with respectful deference from his seat. "If you journey to the west, you shall find your quarry, but understand that firerats are dangerous and tricky beasts. Regardless of that fact, I will pray for swiftness in your victory, since there is no doubt that you will succeed."

"Hn," the demon lord snorted at the advice-laced compliment and turned away from the man again. Youki flowed from him uninterrupted with his plush pelt buoyant on the turbulent drafts. Then with a powerful leap whose force nearly pulled the frail monk down from his perch, the tai youkai sprang away. The fruit vendor stared up in awe at the silhouetted speck until it faded into the darkness of the sky. The dazzling display of stars garnered his attention next, reminding him of how long it had been since the beauty of the scroll had spoken to him. Forgiveness from the miko and closure from the demon had loosened the chaffing bonds that bound his drowning heart and lifted it from the murky waters of his eternally repeating existence. This conjured world was indeed beautiful and a peaceful smile played on his lips before he barked a sharp yip to his faithful pony. Beginning the plodding journey back down the well-accustomed route, the monk astride his produce cart soon vanished into nothingness.

OOOOOOOOOO

Her delicate chin planted in her palm, Kagome lounged disinterestedly in a large room of the mansion. Earlier and with great insistence, the bamboo-cutter and his wife had ushered her there and closed the door after the knights departed for their quests. Without purpose and before the immeasurable amounts of time she would spend there began to pass, the young woman had wandered aimlessly around it. She examined the exquisite architecture and the rich paintings that framed and decorated the walls; however they soon lost their grandeur to her rising boredom. One could only stare at the same mural of a blooming, cherry tree for so long, no matter how beautiful it was.

Resorting to sitting on the singular cushion at the center of the room, the school girl collapsed in a neat heap of silk and jingling jewelry. Shifting often in relative discomfort with the clothing she was swathed in painfully tight and unforgiving; she waited obediently and played her part. The moon princess waited and she was meant to do the same, even if it was excruciatingly boring. In desperate need of amusement, it was as she futilely attempted to peel the irremovable paint from her nails that there was a light tap at the rice paper door.

"Kaguya-hime?" the elderly woman called out, the sound of her voice dulling little through the thin material of the door.

"Y-yes?!" the school girl replied, nearly forgetting her new name.

"Are you decent, my child?"

"Yes, I am. I don't think I could be otherwise even if I tried, so please come in."

"Then I shall enter," she said kindly, sliding the door open and smiling pleasantly at the glowing, young woman who awkwardly struggled to get to her feet without falling back down.

"Are the knights back yet?"

"The knights will not return for some time."

"Oh," Kagome murmured while successfully finding her footing. Gathering soft drapes of fabric in her hand, she kept them from being stepped on as she shakily stood up. "Then is there something for me to do?"

"To be beautiful is your only chore."

"Am I doing a good job?"

"Of course," she chuckled lightly at the earnestness shading the school girl's voice. "You are doing a fine job, but it is now time for bed and I am here to tend you."

"Bed?"

"Yes, it will be days or perhaps weeks before the knights return. We would be neglectful if we left you to be so ornately adorned while you slept." Before she could ask another question, the old woman left the room and stepped out into the hall. With a coaxing wave, she beckoned and Kagome followed her out with a small, but hurried stride.

The soft rustle of silk and shuffling steps marked their passage as they walked through a maze of corridors. Each hall uncannily similar to the last, the school girl soon wondered if her guide was as lost as she and they were simply going in circles. Eventually, the elderly woman paused in front of a sliding door and grasped its shallow handle. Gliding it down its track, an elaborate bedroom was swiftly revealed. Rimmed with expertly crafted furniture and a soft, thick futon at its center, Kagome smiled at the generous living quarters she had been granted.

The luster of the room lost on her after so many years, the old woman entered indifferently with the amazed princess in tow. Turning to slide the door shut, she then shepherded the school girl toward a changing screen which featured the serpentine coils of a dragon and a phoenix quarrelling on its panels. Hanging over the partition was a simple, silk, yukata robe and Kagome stepped behind it, set to perform the dubious task of disrobing.

"Are you in need of aid while you undress, my child?" the woman asked after a while when a series of frustrated grunts and whimpers arose.

"Yeah, I think I might need some help," the school girl answered with a nervous laugh as she reached fruitlessly for another one of the many dangling ends of her obi in hopes that it would untie it. Firm and experienced fingers soon found her back and with a few easy tugs, the sashes unwound. Tossing them neatly over the top of the screen, she permitted Kagome to do the rest on her own and served only to hold the garments as they were gradually removed. Her glowing silhouette from behind the partition emanating light rather than shadow, the school girl wrapped the thin robe around her nudity and ventured out.

"Shall we undo your hair?" the elderly woman asked next, walking across the room to stand beside a vanity table. Nodding enthusiastically at the idea of being free of the pricking accessories that bound her hair, Kagome joined her and sat down on the padded stool. In the reflecting mirror, she stared at her radiant countenance with sheer fascination, barely recognizing the face she found there. Pin by pin, her hair accoutrements clattered on the polished table until all of her ebony tresses fell naturally past her shoulders. If not her painted face, at least her hair looked familiar now. Running a fine, camel bone comb through them, the woman continued her work, straightening the tangled locks. A curious thought snared in the school girl's mind as she sat there being tended to by the bamboo-cutter's wife. In her brief experience with nobility in the feudal era, she always thought handmaidens were meant to care for members of the household.

"I don't mean to be rude, but why are you doing this?" she asked hesitantly, unsure if her bold inquisitiveness would offend the gentle woman at her back. "Aren't handmaidens supposed to comb my hair and help me dress?"

"In this tale, you are considered too lovely for hands other than ours," she replied kindly. "Besides, I would have it no other way. My beloved daughter deserves my hands."

"Oh," Kagome whispered with a blush only brightening her shimmer. Searching for another topic to quell her embarrassment, a repeated detail mentioned in their scattered conversations since they met came to mind. "You and your husband keep mentioning how this fairytale is meant to go. As magic of the scroll, both of you seem very aware of not only your roles but mine as well. So, I guess I want to know what it's like to exist here. Can you tell me?"

"That would be a simple question if we were magic, Kaguya-hime."

"Wha-What?" she blurted out, staring at the solemn expression that now saddened the normally contented elderly woman's face. "If you're not magic, then who are you? Are you a prisoner here?"

"Yes, we both are and perhaps the only ones who rightfully belong here."

"Who are you?"

"We are..." she began, the comb she cradled in her fingers pausing in its long, sweeping motions. "We are the earth gods."


	57. Penance

Chapter Fifty-Seven: Penance

"The earth gods?" Kagome wondered aloud, her sepia eyes squinting slightly as she examined the somber woman reflecting in the mirror. "The ones who were tormented by Yamata-no-Orochi?"

"Yes," the old woman replied quietly, resuming her methodic strokes as she smoothed her princess' hair. "My husband's name was once Ashi-Nadzuchi and I was known as Te-Nadzuchi. In the mountains overlooking the head-waters of the River Hi, we dwelled and raised our eight daughters. We were proud parents for our children were as unmatched in beauty as they were in their purity. This was only natural since cleanliness is greatly revered by the heavens and as dutiful kami, we often bathed ourselves in the refreshing waters born from the pristine snow that capped our mountains. This pride however would inevitably lead to our demise at the thrashing jaws of an unimaginably evil beast.

"The crushing weight of its presence is impossible to describe, my child, but as it wound around us that day and dammed the deep river we enjoyed with only its body, we knew our untroubled existence had met its end. Surrounded by glowing, red eyes and trapped by fear as much as by scales, we beseeched the eight-forked serpent to spare our lives with the prudence of our pleas numbed by flashing rows of teeth and growling bellies."

"And because of that, you sacrificed your daughter," the school girl remarked coldly, pulling her neat, ebony locks away from elderly woman's gentle fingers so that she could face her directly. "One after the other, year after year for seven years. That's more than a moment of fear. The first one maybe you couldn't prevent, but what about the ones that followed her?"

"Each daughter we hoped would be the last and we mustered our courage through the passing seasons to ensure that it was so. Yet, when the shadows of the sickened trees that lined the dragon's endless back were cast over us, our determination dissolved in the vapor of its soiled aura. Then another innocent child was gone and our shameful weakness grew and smothered us until only one remained.

"A few days before the serpent was expected to return, the great god, Susanou appeared before us. Banished to the frailty of humanity but no less confident than we could expect from the one time creator of storms, he assured us that our last daughter would be spared along with our own lives. The price however, was her. It was a simple decision really; we could perish to a gruesome death by the maiden devourer or we could give our only remaining child's hand in marriage to a god who was brother to the sun goddess, Amaterasu and be spared. The choice was plain and Kushinada-hime was given to him.

"As if assured of our decision before we were even asked, Susanou instantly set us to work in our roles. Masters of alcoholic infusion, we tested our merits by distilling a brew of sake purified eight times through. When finished, the mere scent of it drowned the air with an intoxicating fog so that even the tallest, thickest trees of the forest drooped in a drunken stupor. After years of hiding in disgraceful cowardice, we now hid and eagerly awaited the despicable beast and its eminent demise.

"Turning the virginal waters of the river black with filth as it slithered across, Yamata-no-Orochi approached our stone vats of sake, lured by the thick perfume of its purity. After drinking it all in its greed, the wicked serpent succumbed to a deep and soon deadly sleep."

"I know how he died," Kagome interrupted curtly, not caring to listen again about how the dragon was tricked and slain. "What of him that survived told me about what happened to him and his brothers."

"You sympathize with him?" the former earth goddess asked with a touch of surprise coloring her voice. "Do you believe him a victim?"

"No, not then. I believe he was incredibly evil beyond my imagining and still is. But, I can't help but think that he paid for his past cruelty when his brothers died and he was left to live for eternity alone."

"I see. You are a wise for such a young woman," she conceded with a somber smile, "Having been tortured by Yamata-no-Orochi and having watched nearly every daughter of mine perish by its hunger, my opinions of that beast are warped by anguish and despair. But, you are right about it receiving its just punishment on that fateful day, as I remember when what remained of it blinked awake the following, dismal morning. 

"Busily cleansing our home of its tainting blood, the serpent's persisting life horrified us and my husband and I fled behind a boulder in our fear. Bellows of agony unlike any that have shook the world before or since quaked the ground as it rose. Around the meager rock, we peered as it nudged the mutilated remains of its brothers, crying out their names and especially that of the eldest, Akane. Even now the desperation of its pleading howls haunts my memories.

"As our fear of it ending our lives in a bout of perverse retribution reached its pitch, we finally stepped out from behind the boulder and demanded that it leave before it shared its brethren's ill fortune. The serpent scoffed at our threat with its brilliant red eyes boring through our resolve. Our determination as always crumbled before its piercing glare and silently, we readied ourselves for what only our daughters had experienced until then. However, from behind closed eyes and over whispered prayers, we soon heard a contemptuous laugh, both dark and wretched. Peeking out, we spied the maiden devourer looming over us with its reptilian face twisted in wounded amusement.

'Pathetic gods,' it called us venomously, 'You are not worth eating for your taste was spoiled the moment you offered your first daughter for our consumption. Now you have given all you have away and are as alone as I am. The mercy of a quick death was too kind for me and it shall be too kind for you.' Having had its say, it then bit into the murdered bodies of its brothers, ripping away at their clinging flesh until it was free. Departing without a pause of indecision, the lonely beast slithered away and left us to our rising misery as we gradually realized how truthful its final words were."

"You lost your purity and your daughters," the school girl spoke up, her voice considerably softer after the long silence that took root between them abated. "With all of the guilt that you undoubtedly feel, why did you say earlier that you deserve to be here? That you deserve to be punished by Susanou in this prison?"

"It is not for Susanou that we deserve to be here, but for our last daughter, Kushinada-hime."

"Your last daughter, Kushinada-hime?"

"That you would know the story of the Dragon King, but not that of Oto-hime is a curious thing, my child." 

"Wait, Susanou imprisoned his wife in the scroll?"

"Yes."

"Why would he do that? Even if he originally intended to only retrieve the sword, Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, he still married her to save her life, right? He fell in love with Kushinada-hime, didn't he?"

"Your innocence reminds me so well of my children before they perished and now I wish not to spoil it with truth. Let it be, child."

"I'm not innocent," Kagome adamantly denied, the sound of her words resonating deeply in her heart. "I haven't been for a long time, so tell me why he married her."

"Very well," the old woman replied with a pained sigh, "If that is your wish, then I shall continue. That damnable god married her under the guise of love, so that we would aid him in his quest for the sword hidden in one of the eight-forked serpent's tails. A deceitful being as he could not trust us with the knowledge of his true purpose for we might decide to steal his priceless weapon. Thus, he invented a tale of unsurpassable affection for our remaining daughter and even with the murmurs of doubt whispering in our minds, we could only hope that his adoration was honest. Our Kushinada accepted it without hesitation and with that, our consent could only follow. That afternoon before she was transformed into a comb would be the last we would ever see of our beloved daughter."

"Even if he didn't love her, why would he imprison Kushinada-hime? Was she going to reveal his reprehensible acts to Amaterasu when he offered her the sword? I don't see how that would serve her if she did it."

"It would not. To join him as his wife in the heavens would have been a great honor to our daughter and she was wise enough to avoid such imprudence. Susanou however, did not treat her as a man should treat his wife. Instead of awarding her a position worthy of her title, he valued her more as a worthless whore to satisfy his base desires. When she objected to his treatment, he swiftly banished her to the depths of the ocean for her dissent."

"That's horrible."

"Yes, it was," she answered shakily, unbidden tears seeping from her dark eyes and slipping down her wrinkled cheeks, "And we, her parents were ignorant of her fate until the first visitors journeyed through our tale bearing the knowledge of who and what had imprisoned us. We cannot perceive much beyond the boundaries of our own stories here, but when we learned what had become of our only daughter, knowing our part in it struck us deeply with grief. A brief death to satiate the hunger of an evil beast would have been a fairer fortune for Kushinada than a lifetime of abuse and loneliness exacted by a merciless god. That is why we deserve to be here. For every lonely moment she is entrapped, we will pay an equal penance at her side, even though we cannot share a single word of warmth with her."

"I'm sorry," the school girl apologized, smiling weakly in an attempt reassure the aggrieved woman at her back. "I judged you both earlier for what happened to your children. No matter how I might have felt, it doesn't compare with the sorrow you both have been living with for hundreds of years."

"Our grief has not gone unheard. The gods to whom we pray have heard us even secreted away in a pair of inconspicuous scrolls as these."

"What do you mean?"

"The glorious goddess, Amaterasu and her noble brother, Tsukuyomi have touched this place with their power and have given us hope."

"Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi know about the scroll?"

"Susanou could not conceal forever a magic this powerful and I suspect that it is the strength of his resentment for being banished to humanity that keeps this scroll from being broken. Crafted when he regained his power, he undoubtedly feared that if Amaterasu or Tsukuyomi learned of his deceit on the mortal plane that they would somehow force him to return there.

"Many years passed and our pleas for salvation continued to go unheeded until we sensed the brilliant power of our sun goddess and the cool strength of our moon god radiating around us. Unable or unwilling to rupture the magic more than a mere crack, they manipulated the nature of this world enough to permit us a way to slowly peel away the shackles of our internment. Whether it was anticipated or not, their kindness also allowed travelers such as you and your companion a way to enter this realm and to give us and all prisoners heart after so many years spent alone."

"Does it really mean that much to all of you that we're here?"

"Perhaps not to all, but for my husband and I, each one of you connects us to our daughter and we know that through the impenetrable walls of ink and paper, she still exists here and that alone promises us that one day we will find each other again."

"Hm," Kagome murmured, taking up a lock of her hair in her fingers and toyed absently with the ends. "Despite all of the pain and torment here, everyone I've met has found some measure of solace. No matter what happens, no one seems to lose hope."

"Amaterasu's sunlight breaches Susanou's stormy clouds and gifts us a rainbow, my child. If we look, we cannot help but to see it."

"I think I understand what you mean now," she said with a nod and returned her fiddled hair to the long cascade of tresses that flowed down her back. "If you don't mind, would you finish combing it? I know that it's probably already been brushed enough, but it reminds me of when I was younger. When my mother used to do it for me."

"Of course, my child," the old, earth deity agreed, once more pulling the comb down gently through the school girl's hair. "Do you miss her?"

"Who?"

"Your mother."

"Sometimes I do and sometimes I don't," she admitted, biting her painted lip as she stared at the reflection of a young, almost unrecognizable woman in the mirror who seemed to return her troubled look, "At least not until a moment like this comes. Then I realize how much has changed and how much I've lost. Innocence doesn't last forever. It's just not meant to. Sometimes though, it's nice to pretend. To go back to a time when a tangled knot in your hair was your biggest worry."

With only the whispers of burning lanterns and the smooth rushing of a comb running through hair lingering in the air, the bamboo-cutter's wife and mother to Kaguya-hime brushed her princess' tresses. Words unnecessary as they both did their parts, leaving each to recall a peaceful time in their pasts before the troubles of their fates would affect their lives forever.


	58. A Knight and a Maiden

Chapter Fifty-Eight: A Knight and a Maiden

Eager, ocean waves broke against the dark rocks scattered along an empty shoreline, their impacts sending generous sprays of saltwater high into the air. Sheer and insurmountable as it loomed overhead, the waves splashed heavily at the base of the steep cliff as it rose from the sea and reached high into the heavens. Craggy and treeless at its summit, it looked down at the blue ocean rippling below, the timelessness of its stone contrasting sharply with the dynamic motions of the sea.

A speck of gray grew in the pale, cloudless sky above the ocean, lightening with every passing moment as it neared the shore. Formless at first, the silvery streak gradually slowed as it approached, taking on the vague outline of a man and colored with the hues of white, black and red. Then as smoothly as he had flown, he landed atop the cliff, taking a few, short steps before stopping completely. With the curls of his downy pelt wrapped around his shoulder and trailing down his back, Sesshoumaru turned to look back at the limitless ocean and at the way he had come. China seemed further than he remembered.

With a noncommittal shrug, he returned his gaze to what lay in front of him. Their shadowy entrances littering the mountainside, a cluster of sea caves were scattered before him. Unnaturally rounded in shape with a maze of trails leading between them, the tai youkai knew without a doubt that he had arrived to the right spot. Choosing the closest path, he cautiously hiked up the broad track, silently noting the glass-like surface of the earth, the hardened ground appearing rippled as if it had been melted again and again over time.

Nearing the first burrow, he warily paused at the enormous opening of the tunnel that lay before him. Silhouetted black with the bright sun at his back, he reached to touch the black glass of the entrance with his golden sight methodically tracing over each curve until it settled on the dark abyss of the descending burrow. The smooth stone tinkled as he soon tapped it lightly with his nails while listening carefully for any telling sounds hidden in the soft whispers of wind as it funneled past him. Then his fingers stilled and his eyes narrowed. The sharpness dulled little by the rushing breeze, the intermittent scraping of scurrying claws rang out from deep in the disappearing passageway.

His hard jaw set firmly, the youkai lord withdrew the heavy blade, Tokijin from his yellow, obi sash, the youki-imbued metal catching what scant sunlight that penetrated the darkness of the cave. Prudence murmured in the back of his rational mind, warning wisely against challenging the mysterious beasts that scrambled deep in the mountain. He had never fought a firerat in his many years of warring and hunting and only knew vaguely of them through their less than savory reputation. At best, they quite literally lived up to their name and the scroll should protect him from the worst. Despite the impending danger, his somewhat bruised pride directed his reason as it still protested over his actions in the last tale. Sleeping indulgently on the boat when the simple miko had been left to fight a band of ogre bandits on her own with only a monkey and a colorful fowl as back up was not his finest moment as a demon warrior. No, his pride wanted blood and it would be no good unless it was a challenge.

Hesitation now a notion of the past, Sesshoumaru progressed cautiously into the blackness with his eager sword raised and ready in front of him. Soon swiftly denied even the faintest glimmer of light, the demon's easy and confident stride slowed as he continued blindly down the winding tunnel. Determinedly straining his usually keen eyes, he finally and reluctantly conceded to grope for the sure guidance of the smooth yet rippled wall. The cool glass met the back of his hand as it still gripped his weapon and he sighed soundlessly at the polished touch, allowing his forearm to graze along the rock as he delved deeper into the borrow.

Scratching claws and snuffling breaths echoed louder on the warming air and the stone he brushed against lost its chill. A hint of amber flickered dimly ahead, penetrating the encompassing darkness and hardening the tai youkai's expression. Snorts and shuffling sounds started and stopped as the radiance akin to torchlight grew. Then around the bend, the first flickers of fire appeared.

Swathed in a torrent of flame, the massive rodent approached, ignorant of the demon's presence as its lowered head rose in a bobbing motion to vainly scent the air. Both sleek and bulbous, the firerat's body engulfed the passageway, heating the rock it pressed against until it glowed nearly as brightly as the fiery beast did. Oozing from its pointed snout and down its protruding, fire-darkened teeth, molten saliva dripped to sizzle on the floor below. Bulging, crimson eyes sat wide on its elongated face with a red afterglow tracing the air as it twitched nervously, sensing an intruder in its midst. Then with a piercing screech that reverberated through the walls, it found its quarry.

The high-pitched ring of scratching claws striking glass followed as the firerat charged at the youkai lord before it. Standing unwaveringly as it thundered towards him, Sesshoumaru glared at the rodent and waited. With the blistering tendrils of fire nearly upon him as the creature lunged with its tooth-lined maw agape, the demon dodged away at the last moment, pressing hard against the wall. Unable to twist toward its elusive prey, the lumbering firerat dove by the inu youkai, feeling the searing pain of a blade puncturing its side. Gritting his teeth under the strain, the tai youkai held Tokijin straight and still as it sliced through the bone and flesh of the passing beast. A flurry of tortured screeches erupted in the burning air and sprays of blood scorched the ground as it spattered from the wound. 

Landing hard and clumsily, the injured firerat tumbled and slid up the tunnel, leaving a boiling trail of blood in its wake. Disfiguring the swirl of flames that coated its body, the deep slash hung open, jagged and dark. Then it slowly narrowed, sealing shut under the cauterizing fire that surrounded it. Rising to its feet, it snarled its screech with broad fangs clicking as it gnashed its teeth.

"Hn," Sesshoumaru snorted, patting out against the wall the embers that singed his silken sleeves. Stepping carefully over the pools that sizzled and popped on the ground, he approached the growling rodent as it now in turn wisely waited for him to attack. Another mild snort broached his lips and the youkai lord sprinted forward, becoming a silver blur reflecting gold in the firelight.

Leaping back onto its haunches in an instant, the shrewd creature avoided the lethal strike that intended to drive into its brain, but the quick edge did not leave it unscathed as it pierced through its chin and snout, nailing the beast securely to the ceiling above. Roaring angrily, it shook its head back and forth, attempting to free itself. A hot, sickly green glow grew in the amber light and Sesshoumaru released his grip on Tokijin to further beckon the poison youki that poured from his hand.

Then his hand shrouded in volatile poison shot forward, firmly grasping the pinned rat by its vulnerable throat. Intense flames licking his blistering skin, he winced at the sharp pain searing his arm and stared on in astonishment as the blaze vaporized the harsh youki he thought to melt the beast with. The air heavy and marbled with smoke and the acerbic vapors of acid, the tai youkai sprang away to land several paces from the writhing rodent still impaled through the snout. Looking down to examine his peeling and bubbled injuries, he snarled his annoyance and summoned the return of his demonic aura to relieve him of the oozing wounds.

Absorbed in swiftly healing the deep burns that scarred his hand and arm, the dripping of molten glass nearly escaped his notice. Spattering on the ground by his boot, the demon's sight rose in time to dodge as another as it seeped from the melting ceiling above. Splashing innocuously where he was standing, Sesshoumaru spied back at the descending burrow lit in the bright glow of liquid glass. He desired a challenge and that is what he received. Now he better understood why there was relatively little known about firerats and why a pelt of one was rather prized. To think he considered the flight over the sea between Japan and China to be his greatest obstacle.

"The sea," he spoke out loud and under his breath, staring past the frustrated rodent and at the hidden opening that lay beyond the winding passages. A suitable plan formulated in his mind and he took a step toward the beast. "Perhaps there is only one way for a dog to dispose of a rat."

OOOOOOOOOO

A rumble vibrated throughout the dark mountain, sending bits of dislodged stone clattering down the trails and caves that lined its side. The quaking persisted and grew in strength with each passing shake with the crackling of shattering glass paths sharp in the air. Boulders tumbled next as several tunnels collapsed under the stress, sending the large stones spilling over the edge of the cliff.

Then with a burst of rock and earth, the brilliant flames of the firerat found the brighter radiance of the sun as it flew from the once protected confines of its burrow. Behind it, emerged an enormous dog with a white coat that dazzled in the sunlight. Wrapped in a silvery mane of fur and adorned with a blue crescent upon his forehead, Sesshoumaru shook the soiling dirt from his pelt. Panting from the exertion, his pink tongue, jagged at the tip, lolled from his jaws and he watched the now insignificant rodent plummet helplessly over the edge of the cliff.

With brewing satisfaction, he padded down the mountainside in a few strides and looked down at the distant shoreline. Meeting his pleased sight, a billowing cloud of steam pooled off the surface of the ocean. The fog dispersing slowly on the wind, revealing the red form of doused firerat as it paddled toward the beach.

Springing over the precipice, the youkai lord bounded down through the air as if it were solid beneath his paws until he met the soft, wet sand of the shore. Pressing it into neat prints, the minuscule grains gave in easily as he strolled confidently toward his prize still adrift in the pulling currents of the sea. Through the lapping saltwater, he waded out to the rodent and snatched it up easily in his jaws. Not quite to the demon's taste, the soggy firerat squirmed and snarled futilely in his maw before being shaken vigorously back and forth. Under the furious jerking, muscles tore and bones broke with a series of sickening pops and snaps. As the hide easily healed as the youkai's sharp teeth scraped, the beast's spine was another matter and with one final crack, the rodent's screeching ended and it lay limp in his jaws.

Tossing the revolting and lifeless creature onto the sandy beach, the tai youkai waded back looking vaguely disgusted. With a good shake, water flew from his dripping pelt, leaving him marginally drier than he was before, but his disgruntled expression remained. How he did despise getting wet.

OOOOOOOOOO

Painted lips pursed to match her furious glare, Kagome stared down at the sly smirk of the white knight below her perch at the window sill above. Glimmering brilliantly in her delicate hands was a tree branch of solid gold with broad, silver leaves and weighted with diamond encrusted fruit. Glittering beautifully under her luminescent skin as jewels and precious metals only could, it was the promised gift delivered by the second knight after his quest to find Mount Horai.

"Does it not please you, my future bride?" he asked smugly, sending another sparkling-toothed grin her way.

"No, it doesn't," she seethed, her sepia eyes narrowing darkly at his presumptuous declaration of victory.

"I traveled to the legendary Mount Horai for your hand in marriage and now you deny my claim? I am deeply wounded."

"You didn't go anywhere!" she yelled vehemently, "This isn't a branch from the tree of gold and silver on Mount Horai."

"Do I dare believe that you would name one as noble as I, a liar?"

"Yes!"

"Why for?"

"Because, you're lying!"

"These persisting jests of yours are simply too cruel, my love. My heart cannot bare it much longer. Please be merciful."

"What? Do you want proof or something?"

"Ah, if I prove your proof false then will you leave this palace for mine?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Then do your best to prove me wrong, lovely, sheltered princess," he agreed with a self-satisfied chuckle.

"All right, if you think you're so confident," she said with a devious smile, raising her finger to point at the group of men in yukata robes waiting patiently behind him, Then who are those people behind you?"

"There are no people behind me, my mistaken bride," he replied without turning, his smirk flashing again.

"There are too people behind you!"

"Your nerves must be stressing you so that you see that which is not there."

"If my nerves are stressed, it's because of you!" the school girl growled angrily before turning her sight on the whispering men both enraptured and terrified of the beauty sitting in the window. "Why don't I ask them who they are? Excuse me! Yes, you guys. Who are you all of you and what are you doing here?"

"We are simple jewelers," the bravest one piped up nervously after they briefly discussed about who would be the unfortunate one to answer the enraged woman looming overhead. "We came to seek our payment from this knight for our services."

"Really, must this be asked?" the knight questioned.

"And what services were those?"

"For the creation of a branch molded from gold with leaves of silver and bearing fruit encrusted with diamonds," the jeweler continued shakily.

"So, all of you made this, right? He didn't find this during his voyage to Mount Horai, did he?"

"We made it so that he would not have to seek Mount Horai, beautiful moon princess."

"I see," Kagome remarked coldly, her icy glare finding the shrugging knight, "Would you care to dispute that?"

"Perhaps they are the liars?"

"Get out!"

"Yes, if you so bid it," he graciously acquiesced with a long sigh, and then bowed elegantly before turning on his heel and shuffling dejectedly toward the stone steps.

"Jewelers!"

"Yes, hime?"

"Take it," she offered, tossing the gleaming branch down into the grasp of the boldest jeweler. "I have no use for false treasures."

"We are greatly appreciative of your generosity. You are a truly honorable maiden if not marginally frightening," he thanked with a broad grin and then scurried off with his companions as they descended the stairs after the rejected knight.

With a puff of breath ruffling her bangs, the school girl rose up from the uncomfortable sill. Taking her usual, small strides, she walked carefully across the polished wood floor of the room. Sliding the rice paper door open, she left the room for the exquisite décor of the dining area. Passing beautiful murals detailing the brilliance of the night sky, she approached the elderly couple sitting around a large table.

"Are you satisfied now, my dear?" the old woman asked as she knelt on the tatami mat floor, scooping rice from a pot into a porcelain bowl for her husband waiting contentedly to her left.

"No," Kagome grumbled, eyeing the broken, stone bowl, the badly painted clam shell and the glued-together, multi-colored glass jewel; all failed offerings meant to fulfill the knights' quests, although she had to admit the red knight's attempt to pass a clamshell off as belonging to a swallow had been more an exercise in amusement rather than annoyance. "I'm just frustrated."

"Why? Your favored knight shall arrive soon. Were you not so sure of his impending triumph?"

"I am. He can't lose. He doesn't know how to. It's just that..."

"Come and sit, my child," the Bamboo-Cutter beckoned gently and gestured to the soft cushion beside the ebony table that his wife was busily serving dinner upon. "Tell us what troubles you."

"It's nothing really," she said dismissively, kneeling down with a newly practiced grace. "I just don't know what to do."

"You are doing as one of your revered status is expected to do. You are not meant to do more. That we allow you to confront-"

"Yes, I know," she interrupted with a sigh as she poked grumpily at her perfectly piled rice with an ivory chopstick. "I appreciate that you allow me to send them away or that you let me spend my days outside of that boring room. Please don't believe that I don't. It's just that because of him and the experiences I've had here, I'm stronger and wiser now. So, now as I sit here and wait for him to return, it feels as if all of that has become pointless. I am who I was when it all began. It's as if I've become again the weak, little girl who stays back while others fight to save me."

"Do not consider such thoughts, my child," the elderly woman chided kindly, her warm eyes finding her daughter's worried stare. "There is purpose in being the one who waits."

"What good purpose is there to sitting around in safety when others are putting themselves in danger for your sake?"

"Do not think of it from such a cold perspective. Consider it instead from what your champion believes. From what he needs. From what you represent to him."

"I don't understand."

"All heroes and adventurers worthy of their title need a reason to fight. A reason to stride into battle and to face their potential end. No warrior can slay evil or vanquish their enemies without it. Some may do it for the reward of treasure and others for pride, but the truly great ones do it for what they come home to. When you wait for your knight, you give him that intangible strength, because when the terrifying beast lurks before him, he knows that there is someone who will be waiting for him once the monster is put to its death. Do you understand your importance now, Kaguya-hime?"

"I think so," Kagome admitted, still prodding her food as she contemplated on the words of the old, earth goddess. "He needs me to wait for him, right? He needs me to be here for him when he returns?"

"Yes, more than anything else."

"Then, I'll wait for him," she answered with a weak smile, finding a bit of hidden resolve in her declaration.

"Good."

Brassy and regal, the melody of a horn sounded beyond the walls of wood and paper, jarring the school girl from her contemplations.

"What was that?"

"The emperor," the Bamboo-Cutter replied, looking worriedly to his wife. "He is already here."


	59. Reunite

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Reunite

Bright and proud, the horn sang once more, its brisk tune daring and vibrant as it flowed through the serene air of the perennially night-embraced palace. The line of an eyebrow furrowed, Kagome began her still shaky method of rising to her feet when a gnarled hand clasped hers to keep her seated.

"It is the emperor," the Bamboo-Cutter gently admonished, setting his chopsticks across his bowl with his free hand, "You cannot berate this one. He is not some foolhardy knight, but instead meant to be a man of great prestige and honor."

"But," she objected and his hand then rose to cradle her cheek tenderly.

"Please, my dearest child, do not dishonor your title or your beauty by disregarding your role now. Even as I know that the responsibilities of a princess do not please you, allow us the luxury of treating you like such as we did at one time for own daughters. That is all we humbly ask." 

Finishing his simple request, the school girl's sepia gaze softened at the likening of her to his lost children and she found that she did not have the heart to argue. The old man smiled kindly in reply and the warmth of his hand left her cheek to steady himself against the low table as he chose to stand. Quick to be at his side was his dutiful wife and she busily straightened the fictional wrinkles that seemed to dishevel his refined clothes.

"How do I fair?" he asked with a hoarse chuckle as she swept her fingers gingerly over his shoulders in mystified frustration.

"As well as an ancient, old kami can," the earth goddess stated coolly and then smirked at his practiced surprise of her expected remark.

"Then I suppose it will have to do."

"Yes, it will."

With another soft laugh, he leaned in to peck her sweetly on the lips before shuffling out of the room and toward the front door. The clattering of dishes soon followed as the old woman busily cleaned up the table, blushing faintly from his blatant display of affection yet unable to conceal her amusement emerging as a coy smile. Absorbed in her bustling work, she nearly forgot about the luminescent princess in her midst who watched on in a pleasant silence.

"Kushinada-hime!" she blurted out unthinkingly with her arms akimbo, "Why are you not in your room to await his highness?"

"I'm sorry," Kagome apologized with a grin, catching the mistaken name even as the elderly woman did not. "I'm going. I'm going."

"You had better, my child."

Pressing her knees together tightly, the school girl pushed up on the balls of her feet, rising surely and carefully even as she wobbled slightly in the process. Her hands tucked into her billowing sleeves, she walked demurely with tiny steps into an adjacent room. A joyless sigh escaped her as she glanced over the dull space whose only features consisted of a cushion and the reed curtain that hung in front of it.

Slipping between the woven panels as they dangled securely from the ceiling, she found her seat on the plush pillow and waited. Beyond the walls, she could hear the quiet rasp of the Bamboo-Cutter and the unfamiliar, bold voice of who she could only assume was the emperor. In this moment, she was a beautiful princess and she lived in the opulent luxury that only a precious creature of her status could. Outside, the emperor of all of Japan beseeched her humble father for the opportunity to court her, promising to give her everything that she could ever desire with the title of empress foremost in his offer. It was the stuff of dreams and the little girl in her couldn't help but giggle at the lavish treatment. The soft scrape of a door sliding open escaped her notice as she sat there absorbed in her wistful thoughts of youthful fantasies.

"You are more beautiful than I imagined, fair princess," a charming voice announced and Kagome gasped lightly in surprise. Peering through the part in the drapes, she spied her company as he in turn looked through the same gap to admire her. Black, glossy hair bound back in a high ponytail and the wisps of neatly groomed goatee framing a brilliant grin, the mysterious man watched her with his dark brown eyes sparkling in unconcealed appreciation. Adorned in fine, emerald silk with the fierce yet gentle depictions of golden kirins gracing his sleeves, he knelt on the floor before her. "The rumors do you no justice even as they honestly told of your unmatched beauty; after all I must admit there truly are no words to describe it."

"I think that's a bit of an exaggeration," she remarked softly, her flushed cheeks brightening her glow.

"It is not and I fear that I am captivated by it. I admit that curiosity was the lure for I could not believe that such loveliness could exist on this mortal plane. But now that I have witnessed it, I believe that you must not be of this world and it makes you all the more desirable."

"You're right about that. At least the part about where I'm from."

"So then I have reasoned correctly?"

"Yes."

"Then a maiden of such otherworldly qualities should not be betrothed to any man, but the best one."

"And that would be you?"

"I am the emperor," he stated absolutely before gesturing with mild distaste to the fine robes he wore, "I must apologize since in this moment, I am plainly dressed for a hunt in a nearby forest. My true motive however was to meet you and I stole away from my men so that I could come here in secret. A timid creature as you are reputed to be would not have entertained my presence had I arrived with too much fanfare."

"And the horn?"

"I am the emperor. I must have a little fanfare."

"I suppose you should," she agreed with a laugh and he joined her swiftly with his own warm chuckle.

"What do think of such a life that I can provide for you? After all, you cradle my heart in your elegant hands and I cannot bear departing without it. Will you not return with me so that I may never be apart from it and more importantly you?"

"As you said," she began, her amused grin sobering to a sad smile, "I'm not of this world and I'm not meant to stay here. He's going to come for me soon and after that I'm going home. Forever."

"You cannot," the emperor blurted out, startling the school girl as his disarmingly charismatic voice darkened to an unforeseen desperation. "Not again."

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to go home."

"No!" he half-yelled his objection and rose up onto his knees, "Every time I venture here and profess my love, you dash it to pieces and then escape to the moon while leaving me behind, shattered by your rejection. I cannot endure it again."

"I don't know what to say other than that," she added nervously, reflexively sliding back on her cushion to put more distance between her and the rapidly crumbling man in front of her. "If I was meant to help you, I would."

"Then stay with me. Give yourself to me."

"No, I'm not going to give myself to you and what's wrong with you? I thought the emperor in this story was supposed to be respectful and gentlemanly. He arrives at the Bamboo-Cutter's home and tries to convince the Moon Princess to become his wife, but he doesn't demand her."

"The emperor of that story only had to endure her dismissal once and I have suffered through it countless times."

"Are you a prisoner, is that it? Is Susanou punishing you too?"

"Susanou created me just as he created all magic here, however as time and interlopers have affected this realm, so has it affected us," he elaborated, scooting forward on his knees as he undeniably moved toward her. "Yes, I am a prisoner, but not by Susanou's hand, but by yours instead for it is the agony of the heartbreak you cause in our every encounter that grieves me."

"You're like the others, aren't you?" she wondered aloud, keeping her voice calm as the muscles in her legs flexed with her feet sliding into a ready position beneath her in case she needed to hastily flee from her slowly approaching suitor. "Like Fe-San and Mon-Ki. No, wait, you're not. You're more like the tortured neighbor who begged Shiro-sama to give him gold just once. I'm sorry for how this world has manipulated your existence into such a tragedy, but I can't let you have me. I don't belong here. He's coming for me and when he does, I'm going home."

"No, you are not."

Once his definite promise was uttered, the emperor lunged at her, ripping away at the flimsy screen that shielded her from him. A startled squeak a surprise escaped her as he grabbed her by the knees when she hurriedly tried to rise to her feet. With a painful thud, she went down hard to the floor in a silken heap. Wrenching a leg free from his tenacious grip, she quickly planted her foot firmly in his face as she attempted to pry him loose.

"Let me go!" she yelled angrily, trying to kick him about the head when the kinder pressure of shoving him with her foot only seemed to tighten his hold. However, the taut, unforgiving fabric of her elaborate dress kept her from doing more than a few pathetic nudges before he snatched her leg, bruising her through the heavy cloth with the iron vice of his fingers.

"You are quite spirited for a princess of such rumored coyness," he remarked huskily as he continued to slither from around her thighs up to the spread of her hips without lessening his grip. A devious grin curled on his lips and he slid his creeping hand to her rounded backside and squeezed it firmly.

"You bastard!" she roared vehemently and slapped him viciously across his handsome face, leaving four lines of blood to ooze and drip once the brilliant sparkles of the protective barrier disappeared after her strike. Encouraged rather than thwarted by her defiance, his sinister smile broadened and a dark chuckle rolled through his throat.

"Saucy minx! Who has taught you such ill words from an uncivilized tongue?"

"I'll call you something worse if you don't release me right now!"

"That is quite all right for I believe I am aware of a better method to tame unruly tongues."

Pressing her struggling body beneath the overwhelming weight of his own, the emperor grabbed her slender wrists and pinned them down securely to the floor above her head. The slow rhythm of his hot breaths warm against her skin, he leaned in close and then seized her painted lips, smearing the color as she squirmed underneath. Muffled by his mouth, her livid shouts of protest emerged as little more than exasperated murmurs and as he laid over her, she could feel his chest shuddering with his disturbing laugh.

Then a strange, black blur appeared out of the corner of her eye, shattering beautifully against her deranged assailant's head. Retreating from his assault to clutch at the gushing wound flowing from his battered skull, the emperor withdrew to sit up, wisely straddling the school girl between his thighs to keep her from escaping.

"I knew there was something odd about your early arrival," the old woman growled angrily before launching another dish from the armful she still cradled from dinner. Leaning forward to swiftly dodge, the ceramic plate flew by harmlessly, however he was not quite as fortunate as he then unwittingly collided with Kagome's fist as she attempted to crack him across the face.

Blinking slowly as he tilted to one side, the school girl heaved the dazed man off of her recumbent body and scooted guardedly toward the old, earth goddess and her shocked husband who had swiftly arrived after hearing the loud clatter of breaking dishes.

"Let me have a few of those," she asked as she scrambled awkwardly to her feet, her usually extravagantly bound hair loose and messy. Procuring several teacups as the couple looked on wordlessly; Kagome approached the stunned man sprawled on the floor and immediately began to pummel him mercilessly with her trove of earthenware. The hazy memory of a frivolous princess doing the same to a nameless bandit surfaced in her thoughts and she soon had a greater understanding as to why the hime from Issunboshi had enjoyed it so. "You bastard! How dare you touch me! I'm Kaguya-hime, the princess of the moon and I am waiting for him! And when he arrives here, he's going to take me home. Do you hear that, Sesshoumaru-sama?! I'm ready! I want to go home! Please take me home! I don't want to be here anymore. Sesshoumaru-sama!"

A burgeoning silence swelled once she was finished and the school girl hastily brushed away the unbidden tears wrought by the wearing tension that still coursed through her. A warm hand then clasped her shoulder and she spied back at the Bamboo-Cutter who kindly offered the meager solace of his presence as he had nothing else to give.

Rattling quietly at first, the wooden shutters sealing the window then began to shake and a pale blue light filtered through the thin gaps in the seams. Brightening with every passing moment, the cool radiance grew as a loud rumbling joined the rapid tapping.

"What is it?" she asked curiously, her widened gaze finding the elderly man at her side.

"It is the messenger of the moon, my child," he replied with a hint of sadness at the imminent loss he would soon bear, "It is time for you to go home."

"The messenger of the moon? But what about the final knight? He hasn't failed me yet. I know he's still coming and I can't go anywhere without him."

"We will miss you, our dearest daughter," the elderly woman spoke up as she moved to stand in front of her princess. Wrapping her lean arms around the puzzled school girl, she hugged her tightly, quelling the tears that threatened to flow from her reddened eyes. Then the old goddess released her and took a step back to allow her husband his final embrace of their eternally departing child.

"Goodbye, Kaguya-hime," he choked out with his gruffer than usual voice and then he too let her go. "This is for you." Opening her hand, he placed a plaque whose gentle glow resonated softly with her own. Etched on its smooth surface was the familiar, rectangular shape of the kanji for the moon. Satisfied that she had a good grip on it, the Bamboo-Cutter then joined his wife and clasped her hand before they together vanished into nothingness.

"Wait!" she called out vainly to the empty room with which she only shared with an unconscious and severely beaten emperor. Then the shutters flew open and the brilliant light flooded around her. A dark silhouette came into focus as she blinked away the brightness and as it approached, its tall figure eclipsed more and more of the radiance. "I can't go yet. I have to wait for Sesshoumaru."

"What point is there in waiting," the shadowy man replied with a deep baritone, "When he has already arrived?" Silvery hair shimmering with the notes of dazzling moonlight behind him, the tai youkai stepped weightlessly through the large window onto the tatami mat floor. "I heard you call my name and suddenly I am here."

"So the scroll sped your return so that you could rescue me?"

"What point is there in rescuing someone who has already rescued herself?"

"You're repeating yourself," she observed with a wide grin gracing her expression.

"And you have a tendency to ask questions that require redundancy on my part," he added with an indignant snort before handing her the dark red pelt that hung over his arm. "Your prize and the object of my quest, hime."

Her luminescent glimmer brightening with his proper address, Kagome cheerfully accepted the hide of firerat fur, the downy nap soft under her stroking fingers. A nearly unnoticeable smile formed on his lips as she delighted in the gift he had acquired. Curing the skin had been easier than anticipated as the natural heat of the beast's body had dried it out swiftly along with the unexpected remnants of salt from the ocean water it had once been drenched in.

"Are you pleased?"

"Quite."

"Then shall we go home?" he asked, nodding slightly toward the glowing seal she held securely under the blanket of fur.

"Oh, of course," she mumbled, sliding the pelt up her arm so that she could see the plaque. Nimbly turning it over in her hand, she found the next lines of poetry written in kanji. "Seven fairy tales have passed. Their heroes and villains played."

"The way of the land," Sesshoumaru continued as leaned over the shoulder of the young woman below him, "The strength and might of the small. The pride of a dog."

"The peace of a dragon king. The lonely heart of the sea."

"The value of friends. The faith lent by the waiting. Final words remain."

With the last lines spoken, the pale seal shattered, but as the brilliant glitter fell to their feet, the swelling sparkle of a trail of stars grew in the dust and rose out the window into the night sky outside.

"Shall we?" the youkai lord asked, holding out his clawed hand as he stepped confidently onto the deceivingly sturdy path that seemed to hover in the air.

"Yes," she answered, accepting his hand and together they ascended the stars to the gleaming moon hanging in the sky high above.


	60. Forever

Chapter Sixty: Forever

An endless galaxy of stars enveloped the travelers as they ascended into the limitless dark of the night sky, the sparkling specks floating weightlessly around them as they walked. Her delicate hand still gently cradled in his, the youkai lord led the way up the shimmering path with the school girl following closely behind, gathering a length of her dress as she took her tiny, careful strides. Winking out one by one, the dainty lights slowly disappeared until only the star-dusted trail remained. Then even the twinkling path faded from sight, gradually absorbed by the invading black of oblivion. Uncertain of where their blind steps were guiding them, they felt the easy slope grow uneven with regular rises. The distinguishable nature of a flight of stairs formed and a point of luminescence beyond in the distance blighted the shadow with its gentle glow.

"Is that it?" Kagome asked as the light emitted by the doorway reflected across the horizontal lines of the steps before it. "Are we free?"

"Hn," the tai youkai snorted and then with a faint sniff, he barely discernibly shook his head. "The fragrance of scent remains lost. We are still imprisoned."

"But we completed all seven fairytales, didn't we?"

A reply of agreeing silence answered her question and they slowly continued toward the waiting portal. Clean and inviting, the warmth of sunlight radiated from it and with a hushed rumbling in the air, the dulled thunder of ocean waves filled their ears. Releasing the miko's hand, Sesshoumaru touched the strangely tangible frame that bordered the entrance, his fingers gliding over the smooth nothingness and then without further thought, he passed through the light. Any trepidation that bound her vanished as the demon disappeared and Kagome hurriedly followed him into the mysterious brilliance.

The clap of polished wood met her elegant sandals and the familiar painted murals and ornate lamps that warmed the walls with a golden radiance then met her sight. They had returned to where it had all began.

"We're in the pagoda?" she wondered aloud, strolling toward the inked lines on rice paper that depicted a lively scene of brave Momotaro leading his band of animal companions toward victory.

Lifting the flat board of wood barring the exit at the end of the room, the tai youkai set the plank down and then pushed the double doors open. Cool drafts of the sea breeze buffeted against him, whipping at his ample sleeves and gathering locks of his silver hair. A dizzying distance below, the shimmering expanse of ocean welcomed his amber gaze with rippling teal waters illuminated by a divided sky, one half brightened by the verve of sunlight and the other by the serenity of moonlight. Drifting lazily on the wind, scattered puffs of clouds shared both sides, the innocuous remnants of the menacing storm that once swallowed the heavens with its vaporous nightmares.

"It's gone," Kagome remarked, stepping beside him to marvel at the surreal sky that was neither day nor night. "The god of storms has been defeated?"

"Perhaps," the demon lord replied, "When I encountered the monk in the last tale, he told me of the importance of the sun and the moon within the scroll. Whether by intent or by guilt, Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi affected this realm with their divinity and gave its prisoners hope for a future beyond the scroll. As a result, pairs of travelers were permitted entrance, one who represented the sun and the other the moon."

"We're the gods?"

"Mere symbols of the gods at best, miko."

"I know that," she huffed mildly, "But, if you say that Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi brought hope for a future beyond the scroll then are we meant to free them? To break them out of the prison of morality?"

"Hn. That would be a feat grander than either of us could dream of accomplishing. In a tall forest of giants, I alone am nothing more than a sapling and you perhaps amount to little more than moss."

"Hey!"

"If powerful beings such as Lord Shiro and Kushinada-hime cannot free themselves of their perpetual torment, how can ones as lowly as us accomplish it for them? How can we defeat the wishes of a god?"

"Then why do we give them hope for freedom?"

"We bear witness to their trials," he elaborated, spying down at the earnest look of school girl beside him, "The sun goddess and the moon god fractured the magic binding this painted world, but our venturing into it connects the inhabitants not only with each other, but with the reality they had lost so long ago. To know that you are not alone in your suffering and that there is a place beyond the walls that chain you here is an invigorating truth. We do not give them hope as much as we are their hope."

Having absorbed enough of the impossible scenery to grant him satisfaction, Sesshoumaru returned through the open doors, leaving Kagome to contemplate the depth of his words alone. Leaning forward, she rested her forearms shrouded in navy silk and laden with firerat fur on the rail and absently gazed over the sprawling sea. Her regrettable accident in entrapping herself and the tai youkai through ignorance had done an inexplicable amount of good when trouble seemed the only result. Who she was when she first saw the churning waves of the ocean beneath her seemed like the faded memory of a person who only appeared to resemble her. How she had grown over their brief stay, leaving the idealistic girl behind on the aged paper of the scroll so that she could soon emerge as the wiser woman she had become.

With a refreshed sigh and a pleased smile, she turned from the fantastic sight and re-entered the building that stood as an immovable pillar against the rolling waves breaking at its foundation. Concentrating on a flat plate of pewter-toned metal, the youkai lord traced a clawed finger over the harsh cuts that etched the smooth surface.

"What is it?" the school girl asked as she approached, unexpectedly missing the gentle glow her skin had held in the previous tale and its tendency to illuminate everything around her.

"The renku poem," Sesshoumaru answered distantly and then continued to move his lips faintly as he read the familiar lines silently. Pressing in close at his side, she too joined him.

Ink glides across skin

Shifting symbols part a way

Darkness swallows two

Black water breaks upon wood

Shells sing shelter within wind

Hidden from the sky

Brave through storm the sun and moon

Seeking the before

Distant tales seven there are

Battle cries and wishes scorned

The bear challenges

Boy of golden will and strength

Trees hold victory

Danger mounts seeking your lives 

Bird nor insect will give peace

Great journey begins 

Rowing to your destiny 

Seek house of glory

Tiny voice echoing pride 

Hand of princess you do find

A bandit slices 

A hidden needle stabs fear 

A mallet grants hope

Dog white as snow honors love 

Envy black as ash steals all

From tree grinds lost life 

Broken to ash it returns 

Dust renews Earth's grace

Dying beauty blooms once more 

A stained heart may not follow

A lord judges all 

Kindness honors the faithful 

Evil honors none

A bridge laden with serpent 

Only the fearless may pass

A king without hope 

His children stolen by night 

A hero must choose

A palace beneath the waves 

Of white marble and crystal

Fiery eyes wait 

Slipping down from the mountains 

Kiss of arrow slays

A turtle in jeopardy 

A fisherman with kindness

Journey to the sea

A princess awaits her love 

Timeless in her keep

Land will not wait for him 

Many suns and moons will pass

A box of secrets 

Who will bear its gift within? 

A choice must be made

Bobbing along a peach floats 

Sweet for bitter it is caught

In the hands of love

A proud boy bursts from the pit 

Growing tall and strong

Evil ogres rob the land 

To their island they retreat

His allies are three 

Dog, monkey and pheasant 

Conquer beyond sea

Lonely bamboo cutter cuts 

A brilliant light reveals

Tiny princess wakes

To his home she is welcomed 

Her beauty unmatched

Knights assemble for her hand

Impossible gifts are sought

An emperor's lust 

Messenger of moon rescues 

Fly home in the night

Seven fairy tales have passed 

Their heroes and villains played

The way of the land

The strength and might of the small

The pride of a dog

The peace of a dragon king 

The lonely heart of the sea

The value of friends 

The faith lent by the waiting 

Final words remain

"I hadn't realized there were so many," Kagome remarked once she finished, astonishment whispering her voice.

"And it is not complete," he added, his thin eyebrows furrowing in mild consternation. "If you recall our much earlier discussion, most renku poems are typically thirty-six stanzas in length and this one only amounts to thirty-three."

"So, we're short by three stanzas?"

"Final words remain," the demon repeated the last line aloud and then as a thought snared in his mind, he glanced down at the priestess and frowned slightly, "Perhaps we are meant to finish it on our own."

"Finish it? We write our own lines?"

"This poem is not meant for the inhabitants of this prison since we are the ones meant to seek each plaque and to collect each verse. It would only be fitting that we be the ones to complete it."

"If that's true, what do we say? What do we write?"

"Such thoughts are best mulled, miko. Considering the events and quests we have accomplished together and the nature of the prose, how would you prefer to conclude it?" The flickering of lamplight danced along the ornate walls and across the beautiful wood floors as they stood together quietly, the school girl lost in her contemplations and the tai youkai patiently awaiting her solution.

"If this poem is meant for us," she replied after a moment, a revelation brightening her puzzled expression with a satisfying answer, "I think the end should be about us."

"As it should," he warmly agreed, his pleasant tone reflecting her anticipated and secretly favored response. "Since it has been decided, shall we begin... the end?"

Another sojourn from spoken thought permeated the air with only the muted crush of breaking waves filling the silence. With his lines being the most recently uttered, it meant that she was the next one to speak. Before, it had been so much easier when she only had to decipher a few characters of archaic kanji, but now she had to create the first verses that would ultimately lead to their long desired freedom. A myriad of words filtered through her mind, mingling together and forming combinations before being broken up and discarded by the embarrassing notion of speaking them out loud to the discriminating demon beside her. A nervous sigh heaving her chest, she finally settled on her stanza and with the expectations of success or failure brimming, she began.

"Boldness traded for restraint," Kagome recited hesitantly, her sepia sight watching the youkai lord's placid countenance for likely disapproval. Surprisingly, she encountered none and so she continued on with strengthening nerve. "A girl becomes a woman." Catching her notice as they glittered in a bright blue, the neat lines of skillfully written kanji appeared on the metal plate, each stroke drawn by an invisible painter until the ending syllable of her verses was written. An enthused smile broadened on her face and she looked back at the youkai lord in time to catch his mild smirk.

"Shame traded for pride," Sesshoumaru began, mimicking her style before diverting into his own. "Sacrifice is rewarded. By trust and passion." As it was spoken, his words were inscribed onto the metal like hers, the glimmering light swelling with every line.

"Our roles end with the tale. Together we soon depart."

The final verse written, the blue radiance then illuminated the room with its brilliance, drowning out the amber hues of the lamps as it swiftly spread to encompass the entire plate. A rolling tremble grew next, vibrating throughout the space to the floor beneath their feet. Brighter threads of cracks slowly fractured the metal, creeping along its surface as it drew a many-veined web. Suddenly with a showering burst, the panel exploded, sending hot sprays of molten sparks everywhere. Harmless to the touch, the droplets of light collided violently against the travelers as their shattering revealed the dark opening of a portal where the metal once stood. Wafting into his nostrils, the oddly mixed scents of an open field and the old dampness of a cave drifted from the doorway.

"Is it over?" the school girl asked with a hushed voice, noticing his long and pleased sniffs. "Is it time for us to go our separate ways? To go back to the way we once were with each other?"

With the tickling grace of nails ghosting over her cheek, a warm hand found her jaw and tilted her gaze up to meet the coolness of his golden sight. Leaning forward, soft lips parted her ebony bangs to press against her forehead in a gentle kiss. Eyes glossing with the telling weight of his act, Kagome knew it was over without a single word mentioned and secreted deep within her heart, a buried piece of her mourned the loss she would soon feel. Sensing shuddering breaths quaking beneath his touch, the tai youkai leaned back to spy the salty tears that slipped down her face.

"We will always have the memory, miko," he consoled, stroking her cheek softly with his thumb, "And that we will never lose. The strength of our bond goes beyond the divide between humans and demons. Beyond the notions of love and family. It will not fade with time or distance and it will be forever ours. These tears are spent wastefully for something that cannot be lost."

"I know," she answered, a renewed smile gracing her lips with his kindly given reassurance. "And I will cherish it for as long as I live. Even though I feel sad now, I think that deep down I'm crying because I'm happy. Happy that I foolishly read that stupid scroll and trapped us here and that we shared this place together."

"So am I."

"Goodbye, Sesshoumaru-sama."

"Goodbye, Kagome."

The chill of his loss cooled on her empty cheek as he stepped away and then with an unsurpassable confidence that only he carried, the tai youkai stepped into the darkness and vanished from sight. Pivoting on her heel, the school girl tarried a moment longer to slowly look over the ornate room one last time. Then with a sure nod, she followed him through and disappeared as well.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Swaying lazily under the caress of a summer breeze, reaching wisps of grass swept back and forth, eclipsing the glare of the blinding, white sun nestled in a pale blue sky above. The demon lord lay mesmerized by the hypnotic flow, his reclined figure dappled by the blue shadows cast by the fluttering, green blades overhead. Nearby, a familiar, nervous squawk suddenly disrupted the relative tranquility of his state, rousing the youkai lord to finally sit up. Peering over the even waves of the grass field and across the narrow strip of the dirt road he had traversed upon in what seemed to be ages ago; he spied the tan scales of his twin-headed mount and the sunny hues of his ward sitting patiently under the shade of a few pine trees.

"Rin!" the voice yelled again, harsh and desperate for authority. "Stay put! We must await Lord Sesshoumaru's return and you cannot be wandering off."

"But, Jaken-sama," the young girl objected with a pout and then whispered her reason, "I need to go use a bush."

"Hn. Very well, but do not go far."

"Jaken-sama," she giggled in reply, bending down to pat the head of the toad-like youkai, his diminutive body concealed by the stunted clumps of grass at her feet. "You're so cute when you act like Sesshoumaru-sama."

"Am I?" he asked, a bit of rosiness staining his cheeks before he puffed out his chest in attempt to appear unfazed by her compliment, "I have been his advisor for many years now. It would only be natural for us to resemble each other at this point."

An unexpected, sharp pain struck the little demon's skull with the force of its cause sending him pathetically to the dusty ground. A ruffled string of abrupt squawks plagued the air and Jaken scrambled to his delicate, bird-like feet.

"Rin get back!" he ordered next as he grabbed The Staff of Heads from its rest against a fallen tree. "In lieu of Lord Sesshoumaru's presence, I must protect us as he would!" Twisting the innocuous looking carving of the old man toward the perceived direction of his assault, the toad readied himself for battle. Once hard with undertones of anxiety, his grim expression abruptly lightened to wordless shock as he swiftly discovered who had indeed struck him. Tossing a few pebbles in the air as he strode towards them, the white, black and red figure of the tai youkai casually approached his followers as if he had simply departed but a few hours earlier.

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" Rin called out cheerfully, stepping out from behind the safety of a gnarled, tree trunk to run toward her guardian and then collided with him in an unprecedented embrace. Mildly perplexed by the determined child hugging his thigh, the youkai lord dropped the stones to awkwardly stroke her on the crown of her brunette head.

"I have returned, Rin," he informed her gently, feeling the wetness of her tears seeping through the heavy silk of his pants. "There is no further need for concern."

"Good," she mumbled with her small arms still wrapped tightly around his leg while she shamelessly soaked up his rarely given affection.

"Hn."

Still frozen in place, Jaken stared on in disbelief of the long-awaited return of their master. Quirking a brow, Sesshoumaru examined his subordinate's stunned look, reading the uncertainty and shock painted so effectively there.

"How long was I absent, Jaken?" he asked, the commanding baritone of his voice jarring the little youkai from his amazed silence.

"Seven suns, my lord," he blurted out and then hastily dropped the staff he still had aimed for fiery wrath. "You have been gone for seven days."

"I see. And you have been guarding Rin and my possessions well in that time?"

"Y-yes, Sesshoumaru-sama."

"Good job," the demon lord complimented, inadvertently reverting the toad demon back into his motionless state of incredulity. A faint smile found Sesshoumaru's lips with the refreshingly silent reaction of his retainer and the tai youkai discovered that the earned pride he had come to accept in his life would quite acceptably replace the shame that had long resided there.

OOOOOOOOOOO

The cool feel of soft soil chilled Kagome's body and she opened her eyes to the dimly lit rock of the ceiling overhead. Bewildered by the worn features of the naturally eroded stone, she laid still in thoughtful absorption as she tried to determine exactly where she was. A moment earlier she had stepped through the darkness and felt the disorienting sensation of her body disintegrating as she evaporated into nothingness. Gone for so long that she hadn't even known to miss it, scent had returned to the air, bringing her the pungent odor of damp earth. And with it, the rush of reality flooded her puzzled mind.

"I'm in the cave!" she exclaimed and sat up abruptly. Discarded beside a deep hole and a high pile of dirt, was the rotted chest that the hanyou had fervently unearthed when they had first arrived, cementing her conclusion with proof. "Inuyasha. Inuyasha!"

Silence meeting her eager calls, the school girl clambered unsteadily to her feet and took her first shaky steps toward the bright rays of sunlight marking the exit. Then the sound of her name met her ears and an irresistible grin spread to meet her cheeks.

"Inuyasha!"

"Kagome?!"

"I'm here, Inuyasha!"

"I'm coming, Kagome!" a rough, masculine voice yelled and then a half-demon-shaped shadow filled in the light. "Kagome!" Astonishment and worry etching his smudged and tanned face, Inuyasha swept in and without a whisper of warning, he hugged her tightly.

"I'm sorry," she murmured apologetically, welcoming the warmth and zeal of his embrace as she too held him close. "I didn't mean to make you worry."

"I'm just glad you're back," he said quietly, "When you disappeared, I thought you were gone forever." Taking in a deep breath, he steeped his nostrils in her sweet scent and then took several short snorts as the unexpected and rather shocking odor of another seemed mixed with hers. Through heavy firerat fur, the school girl felt a pervading tenseness stiffen the sinewy muscles of his back and she leaned back to find his troubled, golden eyes.

"What's wrong, Inuyasha?"

"Why do you smell like him?" he asked, an inescapable gravity weighing his voice. "Why do you smell like Sesshoumaru?"

"The scroll," she reassured with a kind smile when she spied the root of his concern. "When I spoke the lines of poetry, I trapped him with me in the scrolls that we both had. We've spent what seems like an eternity traveling together. That's all."

"Oh," he replied, his dark brows still furrowed with consternation as he freed his hand to trace the scabbed scrape that marred her cheek, "He didn't hurt you or nothing, did he?"

"No, no. The Dragon King did that. Not Sesshoumaru."

"The who?"

"Later. I want to tell you later, but for now, there's nothing to worry about," she soothed, too exhausted and desperate for the comfort of his existence to explain her adventure to him any further, "Right now, I want to go home. How long have I been gone?"

"Seven days," he answered and as his nails tickled the bare flesh of her back, leaving Kagome to swiftly determine that in all this time since she had reappeared, why she felt abnormally cold.

"I'm naked?!" she shouted in dismay, her cheeks blushing darkly to rapidly match his as he too arrived at the same conclusion.

"I didn't know," he blurted out loud in his weakly supported defense, "I just heard your voice and ran in. I didn't even notice that you were naked."

"How could you not notice?"

"What do you mean how could I not notice? You're the one walking around naked!"

"All of you men are the same," she accused vehemently, "Whether I'm naked or you're the ones who are naked. It's always no big deal!"

"Look, if you don't want us to look, then don't go walking around naked! It's your own damn fault! And what do you mean by men?"

"That's it," she seethed, a frightening look glinting in her eyes that only meant one word and the hanyou winced in dreadful anticipation. "Osu--" Then she caught her tongue and the spell went unspoken, allowing the menacing rosary that hung loosely around his neck to remain dormant in its original intent. Instead, she hugged him close one last time and then released the perplexed hanyou as she smiled at him genuinely. "It's all right. I'm not blaming you. I'm just mad at myself for losing my clothes, but I won't be angry about it anymore and I won't take it out on you."

"Kagome-chan?!" a young woman called out between ragged breaths, "Kagome, are you back?"

"Sango-chan?!" the school girl answered, looking past the dumbfounded half-demon to the relieved taijiya as she entered the cave with a monk and a kitsune fast on her heels.

"Kagome!" Shippou cried out, tears welling in his eyes at her welcomed sight as he bounded forward and scrambled up Inuyasha's back to leap into her arms. "I thought you were never coming back."

"I'm back, so don't worry, okay? I'm here and I'm staying. Are you all right, Sango-chan?"

"We were in the nearby village when Inuyasha took off without a word. We thought it could only have been for you," the taijiya explained her breathlessness before mild shock filtered into her voice. "Where are you clothes, Kagome-chan?"

"See, she noticed."

"I didn't," Miroku remarked coolly between his equally tired breaths, maintaining a wise distance from both women as they sent skeptical glares in his direction. "It is good to have you back with or without raiment, Kagome-sama."

"Right... So, where is my bag?"

OOOOOOOOOOO

Emerging from the cave, the school girl stepped out adorned in her set of faded yellow, pajamas, the only clothing she had in her bag. Slung over her shoulder, the tattered bulge of her backpack hung and draped conspicuously over her forearm was the brilliant red of a pelt of firerat fur.

"What is that?" the kitsune asked with wonderment as he approached. Reaching up as she lowered her arm down so that he could feel it, he ran his tiny fingers over the short nap. "It's just like Inuyasha's clothes."

"I think it's from the same place," she remarked, glancing up to spy the puzzled look of the hanyou a few paces away. There was so much to tell and equally so much that was only for her to remember. Not out of shame or guilt, but for the fact that there were intimate events in life that meant something only to those who experienced it. Others would just not understand.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"With the color, maybe I should think about having some appropriate clothes to match the priestess I'm slowly becoming."

"Ohh."

"Inuyasha?"

"Yeah?" he answered quietly, unsure of the perpetually confusing information she seemed to be continuing and inadvertently spouting.

"I'm ready to go home."

"Right now?" Shippou asked petulantly, sorrow drowning in his aquamarine eyes at their reunion being cut so short.

"I'm tired, Shippou-chan. I just want to go home and sleep for a few days. I'll be back soon. I promise this time. Nothing will keep me away from you. Not even a god."

Satisfied with the indelible strength of her assurance, the little fox released his grip on the fur and reluctantly hopped toward the comfort of the taijiya's arms to soothe his concern. Crouching down as he turned to face away from her, Inuyasha waited for the slight weight of her body. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, the school girl gripped his chest with open hands as she clasped against him while he hooked his fingers under her bent knees for support. Power welled into the muscles of his legs; a moment later he sprang away into the dense forest with her tightly secured to his back.

The dappled sunlight filtered through the branches above, leaving brilliant designs on the impossibly white mane that waved be her cheek. Brief in her thoughts, the coarse, tangled hair seemed out of place, as if it was meant to be silkier with a silvery shimmer, but as it continued to brush against her skin, she gradually forgot the other, leaving it to be secreted away into her memories.

"Inuyasha?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm different now. What happened in the scroll changed me."

"I know."

"You do?"

"I like it," he whispered, drawing a smile from her with his quietly spoken approval.

"So do I. But..."

"But?"

"I don't want to hide anymore. Our search for the shikon shards. Our fight with Naraku. No matter what, I'm a part of it and I won't let you leave me on the sidelines, even when it's the most dangerous. But even as I won't allow that, I'm not going to be a fool either. I just want us to finish this together."

"We will."

"Together?"

"Always. Always together."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Worn and splintered, a desolate hovel stood, threatening to crumble to its cracked foundation under the grace of the emaciated breeze. Surrounded by the papery ribbons of dried grass having never tasted the reviving hail of rain, its porch lay with sun-bleached boards lining it. His head resting comfortably on his paws, a white dog dozed, an undefeatable contentment matching the canine smile lining his muzzle. Suddenly the animal's broad head perked up, his pointed ears curving toward a foreign sound invading the empty air while his golden eyes scanned the rise of the hill that concealed its source front of him. Curled tail wagging without a thought given to it, the dog gathered himself up to sit.

"It's your fault!"

"Why is your misfortune and inability to dodge a kiss my responsibility?"

"I wasn't talking about that!"

"Hn," the deeper voice snorted. "I see."

"Hey, why are you smiling?"

"I am not smiling. I do not smile. What is your grievance if not for the kiss?"

"It's your fault that she hit me after that. You were running around in her clothes when she was dressing and she thought it was me!"

"The princess was in need of assistance and it seemed an innocent enough activity. Would you have rather have done it?"

"Whatever," the gruffer, lighter voice replied, swiftly changing the subject. "I can't believe I agreed to do this with you anyway. I should have said no. Why did I listen to Kagome?"

"I must concur with your conclusion, but had we not gone then the fruits of my seemingly eternal and eventually successful battle against your indomitable illiteracy would have been pointless."

"And why do you always have to use big words, huh? Sometimes I think you make half of them up. Speak normal for once."

"The miko must be dealt with once we return for her insistence that we do this together.

"Immediately when we return."

"Indeed."

"So, where are we now?"

"We are presently in the tale of The Old Man Who Made Withered Trees Bloom."

"This is the one, isn't it? With him?"

"Yes."

"I don't understand. If I'm meant to meet him, shouldn't I have taken your role and you mine? You've already done this, right?"

"It would have been more appropriate, yes. However, further on, I do not intend to spend three hundred years waiting for you on a speck of an island."

"What?"

"Do not despair. You have previous experience with spending egregious amounts of time in one place. I doubt this time it will be an issue especially since you will have the opportunity to move."

"Bastard."

"I believe you are the bastard. Besides, the sacrifice of a few years is a fine trade since I will be inevitably avoiding the embarrassment of being the moon child that will occur later on."

"What?"

"We are here."

Blending with the pale tones of the washed out sky and gray dirt of the earth, the two brothers approached the small house. Waiting patiently, the white dog panted, his pink tongue lolling from his jaws and his wagging tail dusting the ancient wood it sat upon.

"That's him?" Inuyasha asked incredulously, pointing at the animal in disbelief. "That little dog is my great-grandsire? That's Shiro?"

"Lord Shiro," the tai youkai corrected, sending a knowing glance toward old demon lord.

"But, he's so little."

"You will see soon. You will see."

THE END


End file.
